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vagrantblvrd · 3 years

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Related to the post where Luke is ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ about crime that AU where Luke is just all about crime.

Plot reasons with him running into Han and Chewie on Tatooine and falling in with them with the smuggling and whatnot. Ran into all kinds where he learned to properly criminal, you know?

Helped a lot he almost had a sixth sense about things sometimes, saved him and his friends from getting caught or worse, but it also gives him a certain reputation in certain circles too.

Also? Bounties. A lot of them and all over the place and he and Han and Chewie may not have a thing about who’s got the biggest bounty on them at any given time. (Loser buys drinks next time they stop in somewhere with a bar or cantina.)

There are run-ins with bounty hunters sprinkled in there, and if Luke’s honest with himself his favorite has to be this Mandalorian he keeps bumping into?

Serious type, real professional.

But.

After a few run-ins Luke thinks he’s wearing the guy down? Swears he cracked a joke once, dragging Luke to some local law enforcement for something or other. Luke not overly bothered because Han would be looking for him and anyway, the bounty puck the Mandalorian tracked him down for this time was small-time stuff, nothing to worry about.

He flirts outrageously with the Mandalorian whenever the guy actually catches up to him. Started as a way to get under his skin, maybe throw him off-balance enough he could get away, but the guy’s too good to fall for it. (Doesn’t mean Luke stops, goodness no, but once it’s clear the Mandalorian’s not going to bite it’s just. A really weird game they play? Hell if Luke knows, but the Mandalorian hasn’t put him in carbonite yet, so he must not be that mad about it.

(Han thinks it’s weird as hell the way Luke antagonizes the Mandalorian, keeps telling him he’s going to go too far one day and carbonite will be the good end for him, but Luke doesn’t thin that’s true, so...)

Anyway, anyway.

For all that Luke’s become a pretty good criminal type - leans towards thievery, stuff that requires a but more finesse than Han or Chewie favor. Which works out incredibly well for them while doing crime. Everyone’s distracted by whatever Han and Chewie are doing and fail to clock the farm boy as any kind of threat, which never goes well for the them, so.

Anyway, while Luke’s off adventuring and whatnot with Han and Chewie he send money home to Aunt Beru and Uncle Owen on a regular basis. The farm didn’t make much at the best of times, and that’s part of the reason Luke left n the first place. (One less mouth to feed, one less dumb kid to look after.)

They go to Tatooine every once in a while too, Han picking up jobs and other things, but some of it’s to do with Luke’s home and the only family he’s ever known, but to hear Han tell it they go there for work. (Really.)

So on one of their trips to Tatooine Luke goes to visit his aunt and uncle and there are a pair of droids on the farm. Uncle Owen putting Luke to work getting them cleaned up an all that after a tense moment when he sees Luke. He and Beru know Luke’s getting up to trouble, know he’s a criminal now, but he’s still the kid they raised and anyway, might be better that than and up like his father, so.

Luke gets put to work with Artoo and C-3PO, and they still go missing the next day with him chasing after and the meeting with Old Ben. Leia’s message and everything else, including finding aunt Beru and uncle Owen after the Imperials have been through.

All that happens like before, but this time they don’t have to go looking for a ship to hire because Han and Chewie and Luke is so damned relieved to see them after everything. (Han was getting worried too, about to go looking for him when Luke found him first, trailing some weird old hermit behind him.

The training and whatnot on the way to Alderaan, and Luke’s not the same wide-eyed farm boy this time around, but he’s got a feeling they can’t just not go looking for the princess from the message, and Han -

He cannot believe he’s going along with this, but it’s not like he can let Luke go on ahead without him, and anyway, anyway.

Everything else more or less goes the same way, but along with the whole Jedi thing Luke has going on he’s also a pretty damn good thief, picked up some other criminal-type skills along the way.

Has his own little network of contacts and friends all across the galaxy, and most of Han’s and Chewie’s have a soft spot for their third partner in crime and yes.

But also?

Once he joins the Rebellion they realize he has a very specific set of skills and talents that would make him a logical choice for more...delicate missions.

So, he does sekrit spy stuff while not flying about in his X-wing having pew-pew dogfights with Imperial TIE fighters or volunteering for missions to shut down a shield generator on a forest moon somewhere.

Weirdly/coincidentally enough, he runs into his - Han, really, he’s not Luke’s Mandalorian, you need to stop that. (Although really, Luke wouldn’t have any objections if he were Luke’s, but the whole criminal past/current rebel spy/fighter pilot/fledgling Jedi thing, so.)

They have their run-ins, although thankfully it’s usually when the Mandalorian is tracking someone else, seems a bemused at the way it keeps working out that way. Used to be that the times in the past he was looking for Luke he had to turn the galaxy upside down to find him.

Luke never tells the Mandalorian he’s gone straight, works for the Rebellion these days. Can’t risk it no matter how much he does like the guy.

Still flirts outrageously with him though, habit and a little bit of hopeful wishing and no time, way, to do anything about it even if the Mandalorian reciprocated because Rebellion and fighting a war and really, really, he wouldn’t want to do that to the Mandalorian anyeay.

Then Endor and the whole...everything that happened, talk about family drama.

Doesn’t really know what to do after that because he’s still processing, but the Empire’s not gone and he’s still a damn good spy/agent and anyway.

He does that, goes on sekrit spy missions and the whatnot for a while before he just...can’t anymore.

Jedi stuff, you know?

Goes searching for relics and whatever he can get his hands on, thinks about starting a school after a bit because people keep finding him.

Parents with Force-sensitive kids who are worried about them, street kids on whatever planet he’s on and the Force nudging them together, and just.

Someone needs to help them, and it’s also a bit of him needing them in return, and Leia just gives him this look, because she knows.

Promises to help him however he she can, and in the meantime Yavin 4, you know?

And that’s great, it’s amazing, but once he gets the ball rolling and help in the forms of other older Force-senstive people he can trust to watch and help train the younger students while he’s jetting about he, uh, goes jetting about.

Feels a call from someone in need or hears about a Jedi relic or place of importance and has to go check it out.

Also, though, also.

The New Republic and need for a thief of his specific skill set and sekrit missions once again.

One of which lands both him and the Mandalorian tracking him for an old - really old, really unflattering holor of his face - in a jall somewhere.

Dungeon?

Something, because Imperial remnant/local warlor hoping to curry favor with their masters and what a deal - a thief/spy/Jedi and the Mandalorian trying to catch him and so on.

Luke in a cell with binders on his wrists and the Mandalorian in a cell opposite also with binders on his wrist, although sans armor.

(They left him his helmet, though, small, cruel mercy that it is.)

So Luke, he bides his time.

Chats his fellow prisoner up much as the Mandalorian has ever let him, lets the little warlord rough him up thinking he’s intimidating Luke - which, ha. Luke’s dealt with worse, this pompous fool is nothing compared to Leia in the morning before being properly caffeinated.

Once he’s sure it’s safe to stage an escape - or he’s gotten all the information the little warlord is likely to monologue at him - Luke does the escape thing.

Slips out of the binders easy as you please and looks up at the ceiling of his cell/dungeon.

Repurposed to hold prisoners like him and the Mandalorian and not properly secured and all that. Yes, it’ll keep (most) people in, but getting out?

Well.

Convenient vents and ducts and Luke’s just small enough to squeeze through.

Located in the ceiling though, and too high up for most to get to on their own, but the Force is super handy for stuff like that and up he goes.

Mandalorian who’s stewing after the warlord’s last monologue-ing session because he’s got a kid now and that bastard threatened aid kid - watches Luke disappear.

Thinks that’s it then, isn’t it. Years and years of him chasing Luke down whenever he picks up a bounty on him and despite the almost friendly relationship that formed between them over the years, there’s no reason for Luke to stick his neck out for him, right?

Right.

So of course once Luke gets out of the vents and finds his way back to the cells/dungeon he lets the Mandalorian out.

Gives him this little smile, tired, hopelessly fond because yes, okay. The Mandalorian’s been chasing him on and off for years, but it was never personal, always just a job he was doing because professional?

But also, also, the times they helped one another out in the past even with no reason to do so, other than it being the right thing to do.

And truthfully, Luke’s been thinking of the Mandalorian as a friend for a long time now, likes him too much for anything else and even if none of that were true, he has a kid now. One that might be in danger and Luke can’t turn his back on either of them now, you know?

So he gets the Mandalorian out, and they take down the warlord and Luke -

His part of the mission’s over, was just supposed to gather intel and deal with the warlord if he could, sends word back to Leia and whoever sent him on the mission and then -

“I could help, if you’d like,” because of course he offers, and the Mandalorian is like -

“Why?”

And Luke, okay, Luke.

Just looks at the (his) Mandalorian like he can’t believe the guy even asked him that. (But kind of yeah, he expected that, and it just makes him even fonder of the dope.)

Mandalorian back in his armor and no longer wrong-footed and so very him Luke could laugh.

“I want to,” he says, because when it comes down to it, it really is just that simple.

And then off the two of them go to make sure the Mandalorian’s kid is safe and wow, what a shock to learn Grogu is one of Yoda’s species and also incredibly strong in the Force and -

“I’m supposed to take him to the Jedi,” the Mandalorian - Din - says, sounding heartbroken just saying those words, and Luke gets why that is once he thinks about it for a moment.

The old Jedi Order and their Thing about attachment and -

“Yeah, alright,” Luke says, because he’s worried about Din, curled over his sleeping son held in his arms and grieving his absence already because he thinks it’s the right thing to do. “How about we not do that for a moment, hm?”

Din looks at him because no, no, this non-neogtiable, this is for Grogu’s own good -

And Luke sighs, because much as he loves Ben and Yoda and his father, the previous Jedi Order have a lot to answer for, don’t they.

He tells Din that hey, so, surprise, Luke is actually kind of a big deal in terms of the Jedi world these days, you know?

Has this pieced together school on Yavin 4 with all these students, but more importantly? Their families are there too.

Lets that sink in, sits back and watches Din looking down at his sleeping kid - tiny green gremlin of a kid - and smiles the moment everything registers in Din’s head.

Apologizes for not telling Din before, but Thief and Rebel and Rebel Spy and just a lot going on and he never actually hid what he was from Din, just. Wasn’t ridiculously blatant about it - because the Empire killed the Jedi Order, and for all his skill, abilities, Luke is still very much a man, mortal as any other and just.

Yes.

Din is like. Will need more time to process, but Luke is a - the Jedi - and says he can train Grogu and that Din won’t have to give him up.

...Really, it sounds too good to be true, but Luke’s never lied to him when it counted, you know? Told awful, horrible lies he meant Din to see through, but never anything hurtful, harmful.

So he and Grogu go with Luke to Yavin 4 and Grogu gets along with Luke’s other students adnd enjoys it there.. Din’s a bit more out of place until some of the students see him training and ask if he can teach them too - and he looks at Luke, wary of overstepping, but Luke is delighted, okay, delighted.

And since Din doesn’t mind teaching the kids, welcomes it really, as a way to feel like he’s contributing to Luke’s school and generosity in allowing Din to stay.

Sparring sessions between him and Luke, because of course. And then other flirty things before they realize that wow, hey, they actually like one another an awful lot, and then smooches are had and Leia and Grogu laugh themselves sick because it took those idiots long enough you know?

But yes.

#star wars nonsense #dinluke #technically not a fic #vagrant fic #¯\_(ツ)_/¯#long post

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xofanfics · 4 years

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String - Part VII

Genre: angst, fluff

Pairing: Baekhyun x Female Reader x Sehun

Word Count: 4.3k

Summary: You find yourself in a friends-with-benefits situation with your best friend. You have no business falling for him, but your heart begs to differ.

You took extra care with your outfit tonight. Not that you wouldn’t take extra care anyway, being that you were going on a date. Conveniently, you’d see Baekhyun too.

You ended up pushing your date with Sehun back to nine instead of seven. He didn’t seem to have an issue with it, thankfully. He said, “Go support your friends. The jazz bar isn’t going anywhere.”

“Thanks for understanding,” you said. “He asked me to come at the last minute.”

“It’ll be fun. Just save a little bit of energy for me,” he said, chuckling.

“What’s that supposed to mean, hm? Why do I need energy?”

“So you don’t fall asleep mid drink, you little perv.”

The two of you burst into laughter. For someone who wasn’t actively trying to have sex with you, he did enjoy making dirty jokes. You didn’t mind. It reminded you of the stupid, slick comments Baekhyun used to make when you’d wear short skirts. He’d whisper, “Are you going to let me eat you out later? I think my head fits perfectly between your legs,” while your friends weren’t paying attention. You smiled at the distant memory but then you shook it off, bringing yourself back to a Baekhyun-less reality.

You felt bad pursuing Sehun when you still sort of had these unresolved feelings for Baekhyun but you needed to move on. It wasn’t that you were using Sehun. You actually liked him a lot and you could see this going somewhere. He was a good guy and, to be honest, it seemed like you had more in common with him than with Baekhyun. But still, for reasons you had yet to discover, it felt like your heart would burst out of your chest and jump on Baekhyun if it could.

You looked in the mirror. You were wearing a long sleeved maroon colored dress, a few inches above your knees. It was long enough to cover your butt and short enough to show off your legs. The dress hung off both of your shoulders, showing off some skin. You wore a pair of stud earrings and a simple necklace that wasn’t too dressy. Your date was at a jazz bar and you figured you’d dress up a bit. You admitted to yourself that you had a double agenda, hoping that Baekhyun noticed you and even more so, delusionally hoping that he’d want you back.

You slid on your black booties and put your bag over your shoulder. You checked for your phone, keys, and wallet before heading out of the door. Excitement ran through you and so did anxiety. Tonight could go very good, very badly, or very neutrally. Could you handle it?

People were piling into the auditorium as you arrived a bit later than expected. Sadie and Evie told you they’d saved you a seat and were waiting for you somewhere on the right side. You’d find them eventually. Since the lights were still on, you found your friends easily. You squeezed past other people, making your way to the middle of the row.

“Hey guys,” you said, plopping down next to Daren.

“Well, well, well,” said Daren. “Look who finally decided to show up.”

You smiled, giving him a quick hug before sitting down. You waved to Sadie and Evie on the other side of him. “I’m sorry I’ve been MIA…”

“Yeah and, uh, I…”

You shook your head. “You don’t have to feel bad for me or anything. I’m fine.”

Relief washed over your friend and the lights dimmed. The host went onto the stage, taking the microphone in his hands. “Hey, hey, hey! I know we’re all super excited to be here this evening. I’m your host Kalled…”

You started tuning him out, thinking again of how the night would go. Would you be able to speak if Baekhyun stood in front of you? What kinds of things would you say? Part of you wanted to be mean, to hurt his feelings like he did to you. But the other part wasn’t sure.

“The first group to compete in the Battle of the Orgs: Dance Edition is…”

To be honest, you weren’t quite paying attention. You knew that KSA was going last and you had no interest in the Bollywood dancing or the Chinese fan dance or the hip-hop or the ballet. You even found yourself dozing off. Daren nudged you as the host announced the group you actually cared about.

You rubbed sleep from your eyes as the first song came on: Under Cover by A.C.E. You watched the group’s sharp movements and, if you didn’t know them, you’d think that they might be professionals. Baekhyun liked to dance but you had no idea that he could pull this off. You watched the way his body moved in his black shirt and joggers. You watched as his body twisted and turned. He looked concentrated and, knowing the person Baekhyun was, you knew that he could be a bit of a perfectionist when it came to things like this.

You sighed to yourself as they started performing Sha La La by Pentagon. You wondered what this girlfriend of his was like and if she was here. Did she get him flowers or something to congratulate him on his performance? Was she here right now, in this crowd? You didn’t know anything about this girl so far and that was part of what killed you. And you supposed it was better off not knowing because then you’d find yourself comparing and contrasting.

Before you knew it, they performed Regular by NCT 127 and their performance was over. As the crowd roared and people put in their votes, you tuned it all out. All you could think about was Baekhyun. Why did this have to be so hard? Why was it so hard to move on when Baekhyun already let you know that you weren’t the person he wanted? Shouldn’t it be easy? Shouldn’t you think, “Fuck him!” Why was it that your heart still clinging onto those feelings?

As predicted, KSA’s dance team won the competition and the crowd roared again. Your friends jumped up and down next to you, yelling and shouting for your friends. You clapped but you didn’t jump. Right about now, you couldn’t bring yourself to feel excited. You didn’t want to feel like this but you couldn’t help yourself. You wanted to leave. You didn’t want to face Baekhyun but you also knew that you couldn’t hide from him forever. Eventually, you’d cross paths again and you’d have to act like a reasonable adult.

The auditorium started to empty out and you led the way out into the hallway. You excused yourself to the bathroom so that you could gain your bearings. You went to the bathroom and washed your hands. You turned the water off and dried your hands. You took a deep breath, looking in the mirror to make sure you didn’t look as distressed as you felt. For now, you could pull it off. Chill out, Y/N, you told yourself as you walked out of the bathroom and back into the hallway where you left your friends.

Before you could even search for them yourself, you found them standing with a man whose face you knew all too well. You knew it wasn’t their fault that Baekhyun was there because it was no one’s job to protect your feelings. After all, they were still friends with Baekhyun even if your relationship with him was up in the air.

You took a deep breath, as you’d been spotted not only by Baekhyun but by Drew. It was too late to run in the opposite direction so you did your best and made your way over to your friends.

“Y/N, hey,” said Evie, attempting to break the ice that had formed between you and Baekhyun. You stood a safe distance away from Baekhyun, choosing to stand next to Sadie instead of next to Daren which would bring you dangerously close to Baekhyun.

“Hey guys,” you said, as a general greeting just so that Baekhyun didn’t assume you were speaking to him directly. You could feel his eyes on you like glue. “The performance was really good. Good job…”

“Thanks,” said Drew and Baekhyun at the same time.

Baekhyun let out a nervous laugh before Evie cleared her throat. “So, is anyone up for a party tonight?”

“I’m down,” said Baekhyun.

Drew looked at Daren. “We’re not doing anything tonight.”

“Whose party?”

“One of the girls was saying that there’s an Airbnb party tonight. Whoever’s throwing the party must be rich. I heard his dad is a diplomat from Ethiopia. It’s some place that’s not too far. A little further uptown. I followed her on Instagram. She posted the address on her story,” Evie explained.

“Y/N, are you coming?”

You shook your head. “I actually have plans tonight.”

Sadie said, “Just bring him with you!”

Before you could say anything else, someone crashed into Baekhyun and wrapped their arms around him. She said, “You did amazing, babe.”

Baekhyun smiled back at her. “Thank you.” He planted a kiss on her forehead, just like he used to do to you.

There she was, in all her fucking glory. Miss Kira had blessed you with her presence after all this time. Not only did you have to have a run-in with Baekhyun but with his new girlfriend, too. This was the cherry on top of all of your problems. Kira looked up and greeted the rest of your friends. She said, “I’m Kira. I don’t think we’ve met.”

Baekhyun said, “Kira, Y/N. Y/N, this is my girlfriend Kira.”

If everyone was being honest, you’d admit that you wanted to punch her in her pretty face. You’d admit that you wanted to pull her stupid long, bone straight hair. You’d admit that you wanted to rip her jacket in two. But you didn’t admit any of those things. And you definitely weren’t being honest.

She smiled at you as she reached out her hand. Mustering the fakest smile you could, you smiled back and shook the bitch’s hand. You felt bad referring to her as a bitch, even in your thoughts. But it’s what your brain did automatically. When you thought of the name Kira, you couldn’t help but think of the word bitch to go along with it.

Kira the bitch.

Bitchy ass Kira.

The bitch-who-stole-Baekhyun Kira.

What sucked for you is that she didn’t seem like the type of girl to be a bitch. Hating her would be a lot easier if she had her nose up in the air as if she was better than you or if she was acting standoffish. But meeting her face to face tonight, she seemed excited to meet you, another one of Baekhyun’s friends.

“Nice to meet you,” you said even though you didn’t mean it.

You cleared your throat and turned to Sadie. “I’ll ask him. He just said he’s outside.”

You weaved in and out of clusters of students, the post-performance buzz had spilled out onto the sidewalks. You heard the chatter of your classmates, with most of them trying to figure out plans for the night. Just like you, you had no idea what the plan was for tonight. You didn’t even know if Sehun would agree. Your mind was pretty much a jumble after dealing with seeing Baekhyun and meeting Kira for the first time ever.

You found Sehun standing across the street, on the corner. You jogged across the street once the road was clear to cross. He smiled upon your arrival and pulled you into a quick hug. “Wow. You look good.”

You smiled as you pulled away from his hug. “Thanks.”

“Are you ready to head out?”

“I was actually wondering if you wanted to go to this party instead,” you said.

“What kind of party?”

“There’s just this rich kid who rented out an airbnb a little further uptown. A lot of people are trying to go.” You cleared your throat. “My friends asked if I wanted to go and said that I should bring you. But don’t feel pressured to go. We already made plans but I just wanted—”

“Let’s go,” he said, much to your surprise.

“Really?”

He shrugged. “Yeah. I haven’t been to a college party in a couple years. I’m down to relive college for a night.”

“Are you sure?”

“As long as I get to hang out with you, I’m happy.”

You smiled. “Thanks. Plus, I think my friends kinda wanna meet you.”

He returned your smile. “I’m great with friends.”

You liked this about Sehun too. Even though he seemed more reserved, he was still very open and friendly. You had no doubts that your friends would like him. Hell, you figured Drew and Daren would probably like him, too. Sehun was the ideal man and you knew that. You just wished that your heart would keep that in mind, too. You were trying to forget about Baekhyun but your heart was holding you back. You had to push him out to make room for Sehun, because you deserved better.

Your friends spotted you before you spotted them. Sehun looked past you and nodded behind you. “Are these your friends?”

You turned around and found Sadie and Evie walking toward you. “Heeeeeeyyy,” sang Evie. “There you are.” Sadie wrapped her arm around your shoulder as your face turned a little red with embarrassment.

With a sigh, you said, “Well looks like they found us. These are my friends Evie and Sadie.”

They shook hands with him and Sehun said, “My name’s Sehun.”

“So you’re the guy that’s been stealing our friend away the past couple weekends,” said Sadie.

“Nice to meet you,” said Evie.

Sehun said, “So I heard there’s a party?”

“Yeah,” Evie answered. “You’re coming right? I figured we should pregame or something.”

“My place isn’t too far. We could go there. I have a couple bottles of something or another,” Sehun said.

And that was that. The four of you headed to Sehun’s house in Chelsea. To be honest, you’d never been there. You had no idea what his house looked like. And to be honest another time, you realized that you assumed that he lived in Brooklyn like you. But tonight was full of surprises, clearly.

The four of you walked into a luxury building that was a thousand times better than the third floor walk up you lived in. As you walked into the lobby, the concierge said, “Good evening.” Sehun nodded and led you and your friends toward the elevators. The gray floors were so shiny that you could almost see yourself in them. You gawked at the grand chandelier hanging above you as you waited for the elevator.

As the elevator arrived, Sehun held his arm out and let you and your friends on first. Evie whispered in your ear, “What a gentleman...”

You smiled to yourself as the four of you got out on the nineteenth floor. Sehun led you down a long hallway, ending up at the end of the hallway. He took out his key and let everyone inside. He flipped the light switch and put his keys down on the kitchen counter.

“Make yourselves at home,” he said. “I’m gonna see what we have. My roommate had some leftover bottles from a get together we had a couple weeks ago.”

You nodded and sat on the couch, sandwiched between your friends. You watched as Sehun rummaged through the mahogany kitchen cabinets. He looked so concentrated and you couldn’t help but notice how he raised his eyebrow at the bottle holding the brown liquid in question. He held up two half full, half empty bottles. One was clear and one was dark.

Sauntering into the living room, Sehun held up the two bottles. “Light or dark?”

“Light,” the three of you said.

“You’re scared of dark liquor huh?”

“It always gives me a hangover,” said Evie.

Sadie nodded in agreement. “Do you have some juice or something to chase it with?”

Sehun started walking back toward the kitchen. He opened the fridge. “Yeah. Looks like there’s some orange juice and if you guys want something different, I have some of that shitty lemonade mix. And there’s Sprite.”

“Vodka lemonade sounds good,” you said. “We can top it with sprite.”

Evie nudged you. “Go help him!”

You laughed and got up, heading into the kitchen to join him. “Need some help?”

He looked up, smiling. “I could always use some help. Apparently I’m a little heavy handed with adding sugar...” You started helping Sehun, grabbing measuring cups and the sugar jar as he washed the pitcher.

He got four glasses and started pouring a little vodka in each. “How about a shot to get started?”

You were tipsy. Not too drunk but not too sober either. The drinks you and Sehun made were pretty good. There wasn’t much sprite left in the bottle so the four of you had to make it stretch a bit. And Sehun was right about being heavy handed because the first batch of lemonade ended up being sugar water rather than lemonade. Luckily, you had salvaged it, dumping some of the water in the sink and adding more water.

Sehun got more and more outgoing as the night went on. He told your friends about the night you met and how you stood out to him and how he felt like he had to talk to you. When you disappeared for a moment into the bathroom, you heard him say that he was starting to like you. This made you smile. It felt good to be wanted. It felt good to not have to question a man’s feelings for you.

To be honest, you liked him too. You enjoyed his company and he made you feel like the only girl in the world. When he spoke to you, he only saw you. You could tell that he’d invested a lot in you so far. You didn’t have to wonder if he was entertaining other women. He told you that he wasn’t like that and you could tell that he was being genuine. Sehun was the most genuine guy that you’d met in a long time. He wasn’t about bullshit and pulling you around on a string for weeks, months, and so on only to drop you at the last minute. For the first time in a long time, you saw a clear path in front of you. There were no bumps or obstacles standing in your way. It was a straight shot.

When you came back in the living room, Sehun had turned some music on and he started singing “Diamonds” by Rihanna. You and your friends joined in on the song and started singing and dancing around the couch and coffee table, clutching your vodka soda lemonade drinks in your hands. It was going to be a good night, you thought.

Before you knew it, it was about to hit ten o’clock. Evie let everyone know that people were starting to head to the party. As you left Sehun’s apartment, Sadie added that Baekhyun was most likely coming too. But, at this moment, you didn’t care. You felt much better going to this party if Sehun was at your side. You felt better, more confident, with Sehun on your arm. This was a great way to show Baekhyun that you’d moved on after all. You didn’t need him anymore and, to be honest, you were through. Why were you even thinking of Baekhyun and all the bullshit you’d been through when you were walking next to a man that made you question nothing? When you were walking next to a man who openly admitted to liking you? He hadn’t told you directly and you knew that he probably had no idea if you heard what he said in the first place. Hell, he might even admit it to you if you just asked. Either way, you were in a much better place now. You were no longer hanging onto some string, with Baekhyun pulling you in all sorts of directions. You were free, free to let go of that fucking string and go after what you wanted.

Baekhyun knew he had no right to feel hurt but he did. For some reason, he felt hurt that you’d possibly moved on. He knew that it was stupid and that none of it really made much sense but it was how he felt. Baekhyun had moved on. Hell, it seemed like you had moved on, too.

Even with this beautiful girl standing in front of him, he felt jealous. Even though you weren’t his and he wasn’t yours, he still felt some type of way. He was so torn and confused by these feelings, so he started toward the kitchen for a drink. He needed something that would push his feelings to the back of his mind. Kira had walked off with a friend to fix her makeup in the bathroom, so he felt less guilty about leaving her on her own.

As he walked into the kitchen, he spotted Drew taking a shot with a bunch of other guys he’d never met before. Drew slammed down his plastic shot glass and looked up at his friend. “Baek, take a shot with us!”

He shrugged and figured why not? He grabbed the shot his friend had poured and downed it quickly. “Can I vent?”

Drew nodded, “Let’s go to the balcony.”

Baekhyun weaved in and out of the clusters of people scattered across the living room, his friend following behind him. He slid open the door, relieved that the balcony wasn’t crowded. There was a couple smoking a cigarette together on the other side. He sat down on one of the patio chairs and Drew sat across from him.

“What’s up?” Drew said.

Baekhyun sighed. “It’s Y/N...”

“What about her?” he asked. “Was it weird seeing her tonight?”

“Well, it was...but did you see the way she purposely didn’t stand near me? It’s like she doesn’t even wanna breathe my air. She barely acknowledged my presence. And that fucking sarcastic smile when Kira said hi to her? I bet she didn’t even listen to my voicemail either. And she’s already seeing someone new?”

Drew was perplexed by this situation between you and Baekhyun. This wasn’t the first time he went on a rant about you and how you weren’t answering any of his messages or when he pressed him for updates about you. He was always wondering what you were doing and why you weren’t answering and why things couldn’t be the way they used to be.

Drew said, “I mean, you fucked her over. Did you expect her to just...forgive you?”

Baekhyun pouted. “Well, no but—”

“Think about it: She liked you a lot. And, I mean, I thought you did too…”

“I did, but—”

“Did or do? I know we’ve both been drinking and you’re probably in your feelings but you have to admit, you’re acting kinda crazy right now.”

“How am I acting crazy?”

“You started dating Kira! Can you blame Y/N for moving on? You’re saying you liked her, in past tense, but it sounds like maybe you still do.” Drew cleared his throat. “Look, what’s your problem exactly? Are you upset because she won’t forgive you or are you upset because you’re jealous that she’s moving on?”

Baekhyun was annoyed. He had come to Drew to vent and here he was psychoanalyzing him. Was Drew his friend or his goddamn therapist?

Baekhyun let out a sigh, pushing those negative thoughts about his friend away. He knew Drew was right and that he was just trying to help him out. In a way, it was as if his friend knew him better that he knew himself. Drew was only giving him some things to think about.

What was he even doing? Why was he obsessing over what you were doing when you’d clearly made up your mind that the two of you were no longer even friends? He, apparently, needed to move on, too. If he wanted a relationship with Kira, he needed to think less about you and more about her. Otherwise, it might go up in flames and blow up in Baekhyun’s face.

“You’re right,” Baekhyun said, rolling his eyes. “I know you’re right.”

Drew said, “I’m not saying to break up with Kira and go to Y/N or the other way around but I think you need to take a step back to figure out what it is you want.” He threw his arm around Baekhyun. “Look, let’s just enjoy the party tonight and think about this complicated stuff later, okay?”

Baekhyun nodded. “Yeah. Deal.”

As soon Baekhyun closed the balcony door behind him and turned back toward the party, he saw you walk in, in all your glory. The worst part of it all was that you had your arms wrapped around some douchebag in a bomber jacket. Actually, he lied. The worst part of it all was the fact that not only did you have your arms wrapped around that douchebag’s arm, but that you were smiling harder than he’d seen you smile, like you were having the time of your life.

The way his heart dropped and the way his blood began to simmer in his veins, he knew what Drew said was right.

This was going to be a rough night.

***

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cinaja · 3 years

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Before the Wall part 61

Masterlist

----

Initially, moving everyone to Cretea seemed like a brilliant solution to a terrible situation. In practice, though, it soon turns out that there are about a hundred problems attached that Miryam didn’t see coming at the first glance.

The first issue is, obviously, that most of their people do not want to move to Cretea. In spite of knowing about Shey and the other Fae members of the Alliance wanting them dead, the Seraphim still thought they would be able to return home to Erithia, and they are understandably reluctant to leave their home behind. The idea of moving to an island that is considered holy in their religion does little to ease their unhappiness, either. Meanwhile, the humans are theoretically fine with moving to some island they never heard of before, but are far from pleased at the prospect of having to share that island with a group of Fae.

Convincing everyone to go along with the plan takes days, and it only works because the alternative is to risk getting murdered. There are several concessions that need to be made, though. For one, it quickly becomes apparent that the Seraphim will only agree to come along if their friends and families can come as well. That was not initially something Miryam and Drakon had planned for – no need to drag more people than absolutely necessary into it, after all – but the Seraphim refuse to leave otherwise, and so they have no choice but to spirit the hundreds of thousands of Erithians still waiting in Erithia away to their camp. The attack they stage to cover their tracks is not exactly a good trick, but they hope that in the general chaos ensuing all over the Continent right now, no one will think to double-check.

Meanwhile, the humans come up with a few demands of their own to assure their safety. Most importantly, they downright refuse to be ruled over by any Fae. (“No offence to your husband,” Niria, who relays the decision to Miryam, says, “He seems nice enough, but he’s still Fae.”) Miryam would have picked Niria for the job of leading the humans, but everyone else seems to agree that it will obviously be her who takes up the role, and she has to admit that it’s convenient for an eventual unity within their soon-to-be-formed country to have the rulers of the Fae and humans already married to each other. Eventually, they might actually manage to get a unified government for all people living on Cretea, but for the moment, it is agreed upon that humans and Fae will be governed separately, with an option of merging the two governments eventually should both sides agree.

By the time they finally move on to the next issue (how to get everyone to Cretea), the Continent has already completely dissolved into chaos. They had to pull in most of their spies, but Andromache, who drops by almost every day, keeps them well-informed.

“It is a mess,” she says one day, looking drained enough that Miryam wordlessly hands her a mug of tea and gently pushes her towards the nearest chair. “Millions of people on the move everywhere. All roads are crowded, and the soldiers are busy day and night trying to keep the violence between groups at bay. And we still haven’t got any idea where to put most of these people.”

For the most part, Miryam just tries not to think about it. She doesn’t want to imagine these millions of people who are forced to leave their homes and travel through the entire Continent into the unknown, doesn’t want to think that this was not the future she was hoping for when she dreamt of what a world after the war might look like. (We won, she reminds herself. That’s all that really counts. Any other problems, we will find a way to deal with.)

There are many things she is trying very hard not to think too much about. Her death, for example. Or the wall that will soon go up and the people who will have to die for it to happen. Or how the entire mess the world has been turned into is, in some way, because of her. During the days when she is too busy to spend much time thinking, it works for the most part. At night, it’s a different matter.

At the end of the day, she’s still one of the lucky ones, though. Unlike so many others, at least she isn’t losing her home. Of course, there are places she will miss, Erithia and Telique for one. But she never truly had a place she considered home, not really, so there is no home for her to lose now. Her home were always other people, and most of those will be coming with her.

It more difficult for Drakon. He is trying very hard to pretend that he is enthusiastic about moving to Cretea to set a good example for his people, but Miryam can tell that losing Erithia is tearing him apart. That is definitely her fault in a way, just as the fact that his right arm still hurts and none of the healers they talked to has been able to do anything about it is because of her. (Well, the blame for that last thing lies with Daín for the most part, but he had the good sense to stay away so far. Miryam is sure that will change soon enough, though, given what she knows about him.)

Drakon and her settle into a rhythm of sorts together. During the days, they pretend everything is fine. At nights, when they are alone in their tent, they allow themselves to mourn, to be scared and in pain. It probably isn’t ideal, but Miryam supposes they will have all the time in the world to deal with what they lost once everyone is safe and settled on Cretea.

----

Miryam is asleep in their tent, or at least pretending to be, but Drakon gave up on trying to sleep after having spent two hours tossing and turning on his mattress. His right arm still hurts, pain shooting up from the fingertips to the shoulder at any movement, which makes sleeping difficult.

Instead, he leaves the camp, nodding to the guards as he passes them, and sits down on a flat stone by the shore still within the wards Miryam set up around the camp. Tiny waves are lapping around his feet. Drakon picks up a handful of pebbles and starts tossing them into the water, sending ripples running over the surface.

He is just about to pick up a second hand of stones when a reflection appears in the water. He looks up and finds a dark-haired man with dark skin and blue robes floating above the water. So he did come, just as Miryam predicted.

“Ghost,” he says, only to remember a heartbeat later that the being in front of him is called Daín.

“Hello Drakon,” Ghost – no, Daín, remember it already – says quietly.

He doesn’t say anything after that, and Drakon only stares at him. Miryam told him about what happened after he resurrected her, but he still cannot quite believe that the man before her is the second-most important being in his religion. (Although given that his goddess apparently wants him dead, he might want to reconsider his religion as well. There are many things he needs to reconsider, it seems.)

“How… how are you doing?” Daín finally asks.

“Good,” Drakon says in a too-casual tone. “Thanks for asking. You might want to avoid Miryam for the time being, though. She’s furious with you.”

“Miryam, huh?” Daín asks. “And you?”

Drakon shrugs with his good shoulder. “My arm still hurts.” Understatement of the century. “I can barely hold a pen. How do you think I am feeling?”

Daín’s form dims slightly. “I’m sorry,” he says. “That’s what I actually came to tell you. I didn’t mean…” He breaks off, then starts again. “I regretted it the moment I did it.”

“Why did you do it, then?” Drakon asks.

That’s what has been bugging him ever since. Admittedly, he isn’t the best at judging people, but he still thought he could trust Ghost. They weren’t exactly friends, but he still thought they liked each other. That he was apparently so wrong stings.

“Because I couldn’t spend the rest of eternity stuck in that cave,” Daín says, voice rising slightly. “I just couldn’t.”

“But we had promised to get you out,” Drakon says. He doesn’t like how small his voice sounds. This would probably be easier if he was angry.

“And how would you have done that, with Miryam dead?” Daín shakes his head. “Any possible way to ever free me – be it in combination with resurrecting Miryam or just cutting me loose – involved you using the sword. I didn’t want this, I swear I didn’t, but it was my only chance.”

“Ah,” Drakon says, nodding slowly.

He hadn’t considered that. It makes sense, though, and it being the reason for why Daín did what he did is actually a relief. It means that Daín didn’t hate him, didn’t fake friendliness to manipulate him into freeing him from the beginning – Drakon didn’t misjudge him that badly, after all – he just wanted to get out of the cave. After eight thousand years of being trapped there alone, it is certainly something Drakon can sympathize with. He doesn’t exactly approve (his arm hurts too much for that), but he has a hard time blaming Daín.

“And you…” Daín continues, “you wanted to save Miryam so badly. Initially, I wasn’t going to help you, but you practically begged me and so – “

“And so you thought it was fine to lie to me?” Drakon asks, annoyed again. He understands why Daín didn’t give him the choice, but there’s really no reason for Daín to act like he was doing him a favour, or like he was justified in taking away his choice on the matter. “If you were so sure I would do it anyways, you could have just told me the truth.”

“I – “ Daín begins, but he is cut off by a voice from behind.

“Are you actually apologizing because you feel bad, or just because your little plan to free yourself didn’t go quite as planned and you need me to not hate you, Daín?”

Drakon turns around to Miryam who is leaning against a tree behind him, arms crossed so tightly she looks like she is moments away from accidentally snapping them.

“Can’t sleep?” Drakon asks by way of greeting and moves aside a bit on his stone to make space for her.

“As usual.” Miryam pushes off her tree and goes to sit next to him. Arms still crossed, she turns to glare at Daín. “Still waiting for your answer.”

Daín still seems to be processing what Miryam just said to him. He is hanging entirely still in the air, not even blinking. At Miryam’s words, he snaps out of it, though.

“I really do want to apologize,” he says. “I would have come even if I had been freed fully, instead of just being tied to you instead of the sword. And I would still want you to not hate me even if I was able to move more than a mile away from you at a time.”

Miryam snorts. “Yeah, it must be terribly inconvenient. All that work to get free, only to end up tied to one of the people you betrayed to get what you want.”

She is very good at only letting anger and coldness show right now, but Drakon knows that she was as hurt by Daín’s betrayal as he was, and that she isn’t pleased at all by having him bound to her now. Under different circumstances, Drakon thinks she might have decided to be more charitable about the entire situation and give Daín a second chance, but it seems she decided to be angry for both of them about Daín nearly getting him killed.

“Besides,” Miryam continues, “your apologies hardly undo what you did.”

Now, Drakon does feel the need to interject. He is almost beginning to feel bad for Daín.

“It was nice of him to explain, though,” Drakon says. “I can’t even blame him, honestly.”

Miryam twists around to face him, looking outraged. “What?” She asks. “You can’t be serious.”

Drakon shrugs. “He wanted a way out of that cave. I understand that. And if I had just let him out earlier instead of leaving him trapped there all alone just because I was scared to break tradition, none of this would have happened, so at least part of the blame for the entire situation lies with me.”

“Using the sword would still have killed you, though!” Miryam is clearly trying to keep her voice calm, but she doesn’t succeed entirely. “That was his plan from the beginning. How can you just be willing to overlook that?”

In spite of himself, Drakon finds himself smiling. It has been an ongoing discussion between the two of them in the last weeks which one of them is putting to little importance into their own wellbeing. Drakon feels that Miryam is brushing off the fact that she died and the related trauma too easily and also spends far too much time blaming herself and too little blaming others for everything that happened. In turn, Miryam thinks that Drakon should focus less on her and more on how he almost died and also lost his home.

In the end, they are probably both right. It seems that they are both painfully alike in that they never quite manage to place enough importance on their own lives.

“That wasn’t my plan at all,” Daín objects, making Drakon turn to face him again. “I didn’t want to hurt Drakon, that’s why I stopped suggesting he use the sword after a while!”

Miryam looks like she already has a reply ready for that, but Drakon cuts in before she gets the chance. “I think we aren’t going to solve this today,” he says. “What I’d like to know, though, is how you ended up in that cave. The true story. And how you know the Mo… Étain.”

That stops Miryam from saying whatever was just on her mind. She has been dying to know the details of Daín’s and Étaín’s past, and she evidently cares more about that than about telling Daín off yet again.

“Alright,” Daín says. He seems relieved at the chance to change the subject. “Then let’s start at the beginning. From my understanding, it is Fae belief that I am a Fae who was chosen as a consort by Étaín, who is the goddess who created this world.”

Drakon nods, internally bracing himself. He has a feeling he isn’t going to like whatever is coming next. He was never go-to-the-temple-daily religious, but he did care about it. The years of war didn’t exactly improve his relationship with his goddess, but he can’t shake the feeling that this will be worse still.

“The Fae, as usual, were wrong on both counts,” Daín says. “Étaín and I are both members of a species called Aín. We are born from the universe itself, made from the strings that make up its essence and have powers that are – although any Aín I can think of would consider the comparison an insult – similar to the powers witches exhibit. Although the more correct way to put it considering the history would be that the witches have powers that are a faint echo of ours.”

“Sounds pretty god-like to me,” Drakon mutters.

“That’s an interesting question, isn’t it?” Daín asks, perking up. “What is a god?” He seems genuinely excited at the question. “You see, there is no clear answer. If we define it as a ‘being of great power that is worshipped as a deity’, one might consider Miryam to be a goddess, provided she got herself some worshipers, and – “

“Can we get back to the subject at hand?” Miryam asks sharply. Drakon cannot tell if she is just annoyed with Daín in general, wants him to continue his story, or doesn’t like the goddess-comparison. Probably a mixture of all three.

Daín winces. “Sure. Anyways, long story short, Étaín grew tired of simply visiting worlds and watching life there as a spectator. She wanted… well, I suppose that no longer matters. She took over one of the worlds – this one – and began to shape it to her liking, using the Cauldron, a magical item she created, to anchor the spell she used. She never particularly cared about the world’s original inhabitants – the humans, as I am sure you already guessed – but there was a bunch of invaders from another world – the Fae – who were all too happy to worship her as a goddess when she had prepared this world so well for them. And Étaín quickly found that she enjoyed being worshipped as a goddess.”

Drakon groans and buries his face in his hands. He prepared himself for the worst, but this is worse than anything he considered possible. His ancestors were invaders who stole this world from the humans and then proceeded to enslave him, his goddess the one who helped them, and –

“And what was your role in all this?” Miryam asks.

“I was her best friend,” Daín says without looking at Miryam. “And then I was her lover and her husband.”

“So you helped her.” Miryam has her arms crossed again and seems to be growing increasingly angry as the conversation progresses.

“No. But I didn’t stop her either, and that’s almost as bad.” Daín sighs. “It took me far too long to realize that she was wrong, and to start acting against her. I only changed my mind when I met Rashida. But from then on, I worked with the humans against Étaín. Well, mostly against the Fae, but Étaín backed them, so it made little difference. I managed to keep it secret for centuries, but she found out eventually. When she did, we fought. And we hurt each other badly enough that we were both reduced to this.” He gestures at himself. “Powerless. Mere shades of what we once were, forced to remain stuck in this world forever without ever having the power to influence it again.”

Drakon curses softly and runs a hand through his hair. Wonderful. So everything he believes was one giant lie. Well, not everything, of course, but still quite a lot. A lot of really important things.

Miryam nods slowly. “Interesting story. We’ll think about it.”

“There’s more still,” Daín says. “So much you do not know yet.”

“Maybe some other day,” Miryam says. “I’d rather be alone with Drakon now, though.”

Daín nods. “Of course. And I truly am sorry.”

Miryam doesn’t react. Drakon might have offered some acknowledgement, but he is still chewing on what Daín just told him. After waiting another heartbeat, Daín disappears into thin air.

Drakon turns to Miryam. His first instinct is to apologize, to offer some kind of comment about what Daín just revealed about his ancestors, but Miryam likely wouldn’t care about that. She didn’t the first time around, and she doubts he will now.

Miryam is the one who breaks the silence. “I can’t believe you are actually considering to forgive him,” she says, but she is smiling as she shakes her head slightly.

Ah. So this is what they are talking about. “And you?” Drakon asks. “Are you just going to hate him forever? Might be inconvenient, given that he is tied to you. He’ll have to be around a lot.”

Miryam laughs. “Unfortunate, isn’t it? I guess I’ll have to put that on the list of things I will eventually have to deal with. Sometime after we’ve made sure our people get through the next year without starving, I imagine.”

Drakon smiles back at her. “At least it won’t be boring?” He offers.

“Oh, definitely,” Miryam says and takes his hand. “At the rate things are going, we’ll be lucky if we ever get so much as a single boring day in our lives.”

“There’s a lot to be done until we get there, though,” Drakon says and jumps to his feet. “Houses to build and fields to plant. A country to create from scratch.” He offers her a hand to help her up.

Miryam takes the offered hand and lets him pull her to her feet. “Sounds fun. We better find a way to get everyone to Cretea safely first, though.”

----

Moving over to Cretea turns out to be less of a challenge than Miryam initially anticipated. Lacking ships and unable to purchase new ones for secrecy reasons, they had to rely on magic to get them across the ocean and onto the island. The entire matter (disabling the wards to even allow people onto the island and then creating a spell that allows about a million people to transfer to the island) took Miryam four days and no less than six trips to Cretea.

The spell she ended up with is hardly a work of art – it’s a one-way bridge of sorts between their camp and Cretea, and only ten people can pass through at a time and the transfer over to Cretea takes about thirty seconds, meaning that they need to have the spell running for well over a month to get everyone over to the island – but it is functional. A month is long, yes, it seems like a small price to pay for a relatively safe and comfortable way of travelling. Especially compared to what the millions of people on the Continent who also lost their homes have to deal with.

On the last day before the first people will start leaving for Cretea, Andromache visits again. Drakon is busy explaining the logistics of everything to the group of soldiers that will pass through the wall first, and so it’s just the two of them sitting together in Miryam’s tent.

“So, how are you doing?” Andromache asks.

Miryam shrugs. “Getting used to everything.” She doesn’t say that the nightmares are bad again, or that she feels so terribly guilty for all these people having to leave their homes, or that she is terrified of what the future might hold.

Andromache is kind enough to leave it at that and not call attention to her lie. “You’re leaving with the first group tomorrow?” She asks instead.

“Yes.” Miryam nods to the necklace Andromache is still wearing around her neck. “That will still bring you to me whenever you want. I’m hoping to see you again even when we’ve left the Continent.”

“I’ll come visit,” Andromache says with a sad smile.

Neither of them says that Andromache will have a very limited amount of time where she is even able to visit. The evacuations will probably take a few months still, but once the Wall goes up, there will be no more visits. Because there will be no more Andromache.

It is a subject both of them have carefully avoided in the last weeks. The knowledge that the wall spell will require the lives of the six human queens to come into function is always there, standing between them, but Miryam hasn’t yet found the courage to address it and Andromache doesn’t seem interested in bringing it up either.

Miryam reaches into her jacket and pulls out a second necklace. “And it would be great if you could give this to Mor. Tell her that I’d like to see her again sometime.”

Andromache frowns at the necklace in Miryam’s hand, then reluctantly takes it. “Is this your way of making me talk to Mor again?”

“This is my way of making sure a friend of mine doesn’t spend the rest of her life blaming herself for my death, and of possibly clearing up our argument,” Miryam replies. “Although I do wish you two would talk things out.”

Andromache makes a face at Miryam. “I don’t.”

“It was just an argument, Andromache. And it was halfway my fault, anyways, for not warning Mor of what I was going to do. It’s really not worth breaking up over.”

And Miryam feels terrible that this argument led to two of her friends breaking up. She never wanted that to happen, and she doesn’t think Mor deserves it. What she has said hadn’t exactly been kind, but given what Miryam had done, it hadn’t been unwarranted, either. Miryam doesn’t regret her actions, but she also cannot blame anyone for hating her for them.

“Well, it’s not your relationship so you don’t get to decide that,” Andromache mutters. When Miryam just watches her in silence, she sighs. “Besides, I’m not breaking up with Mor over the argument the two of you had. I’m breaking up with her because of the general implications of her behaviour.”

“You don’t really think Mor is anything like Shey,” Miryam says.

“No. But I don’t think I can imagine a relationship with her either. Not anymore.” Andromache shrugs. “I mean, even if I wasn’t going to die in that spell, I think it would be better for things to end here. Especially with the wall soon going up, there is little point in investing in a relationship I am unsure about.”

“Either way, you should talk to her sometime,” Miryam says. “You won’t get many chances to clear things between you up anymore, and such things shouldn’t be put off too long.” She thinks of Jurian and all the things she never got the chance to say to him and adds, “Talking from experience.”

Andromache sighs and closes her hand around the necklace. “I’ll give it to Mor,” she says. “And I’ll see. About the conversation.”

Miryam nods. “That’s all I am asking.”

----

Almost two weeks after Miryam gave it to her, Andromache still carries the charmed necklace she was meant to give to Mor around with her. She intended to give it to Mor right away, but somehow, the opportunity never arose. With the entire Continent dissolved into complete chaos, refugee trails running from one side to the other, she simply didn’t have much time for private conversations. Besides, Mor wasn’t in Telique as much as before, meaning they rarely saw each other either way.

Alright. If Andromache is being entirely honest, she didn’t exactly put much effort into meeting her, either. She could easily have sent a letter and asked Mor to come visit, but the truth is that she simply doesn’t want to talk to her. Having a few weeks to think everything through helped calm her anger into a manageable extent – which was, of course, helped by the fact that Miryam and Drakon turned out to be alive and… well, not quite well, but well enough, she suppoes – but that still doesn’t mean she’s just going to forgive Mor. Not for her behaviour and not for the mindset behind it.

Talking to Mor now would mean having to deal with that, and she simply doesn’t have the energy to explain to her where her problem is. If Mor doesn’t figure it out herself, it’s hardly up to Andromache to help her.

She promised Miryam, though. And Miryam also has a point that some things ought to be settled in due time. So as the date when the wall is scheduled to go up (which will, as it happens, also mean Andromache’s death), she finally makes herself approach Mor after a meeting in Telique.

“We need to talk,” she says by way of greeting, making Mor spin around to her, the papers she was just studying forgotten. Before she can say anything else, Andromache adds, “Meet me in half an hour in our usual spot.”

With that, she turns around and stalks off.

Their usual spot is one of the palace’s private gardens, this one belonging traditionally to Angolere. Usually, it is visited by courtiers from her country, but with everyone so busy lately, it is entirely empty when Andromache arrives. She still walks around once to check, then sits down on a bench under a willow and waits.

Mor arrives five minutes later. She is clearly nervous, fiddling around with the sleeve of her dress as she walks. Andromache nods to the seat beside her and waits until Mor has put up a ward around them before pulling the necklace out of her pocket and holding it out to her.

The explanation she offers is quick and hard. She only offers the bare bones of the situation. Miryam, Drakon and the others are alive, they are hiding, Miryam wants Mor to visit. She does not mention Shey, or the fact that Miryam died. If Mor wants to know about these things, she will have to speak to Miryam about it.

Halfway through her explanations, Mor begins to cry. Andromache does not put an arm around her shoulders to comfort her. Part of her wants to, but that would send a signal to Mor she doesn’t want to send, and so she simply finishes her explanation and then waits for Mor to stop crying.

Maybe it was wrong of her to wait this long before giving the news to Mor. Letting her go on for weeks still thinking Miryam, Drakon and the others are dead was cruel, perhaps. Did she truly do it because she did not want to speak to Mor, or was it some sort of punishment? It bothers Andromache that she cannot tell and she vows to herself to do better. She once loved Mor dearly – for all that she made mistakes, she does not deserve cruelty, or punishment.

“So things between us…” Mor begins, hesitantly. “Things are fine again? We’re good.”

Andromache’s initial reaction is to snap at her, but she promised herself to be kind about this from now on, if only to make up for not delivering Miryam’s message earlier. This is, although Mor doesn’t yet know it, their final conversation. And Andromache wants a neat resolution to this, one that will leave her knowing she did everything right. She doesn’t want to be angry with Mor anymore. She just wants this settled and then she wants to move on.

“No,” she says as gently as she can manage. “I never blamed you for Miryam’s death, and so her not being dead changes nothing at all.” Mor looks completely crestfallen. She doesn’t say anything else, so it’s up to Andromache to say the final words. “Things between us are over, Mor.”

She doesn’t say that she is sorry. This conversation is already more for Mor’s sake than for hers, but there are limits to how far she will go. Maybe if Mor hadn’t thought that the sole problem was Miryam’s death, she might have been kinder.

Mor is crying again.

Andromache sighs. Still, she doesn’t reach out to comfort her. “With the wall soon going up, we wouldn’t have much of a future either way,” she says. “The Night Court and Angolere will be on different sides of the wall, with no way across.”

It isn’t the reason for why she is ending the relationship, but it might soften the blow for Mor. Let her think that the wall influenced her decision, that they might still have had a chance without it.

“I could stay in Angolere with you,” Mor sniffs.

“And leave your family behind forever? That’s not a choice I’d want you to make. Especially not over a relationship I am no longer sure about.”

She is far more than “no longer sure”, but there’s no need to say that. If not for the wall, if not for Andromache’s upcoming death, there might be some way to salvage their relationship, but Andromache doesn’t think she would be willing to make the effort. She certainly wouldn’t want Mor to make a choice as permanent as leaving her home behind for her now.

It does not make Mor cry any less, though. Andromache wishes she would stop crying long enough to think about her words and realize she is right. There’s no way Mor would want to leave her family and friends behind, not even for Andromache. But well, maybe she has a right to her tears and this is just Andromache being impatient with her. Looking at it objectively, it is probably her who is being too cold about this while Mor’s reaction is appropriate to the situation.

“Not all endings have to be bad,” Andromache offers. “I know it sometimes feels that way, but a relationship ending isn’t the end of the world. It just happens sometimes, and sometimes, it is even for the best. At times, two people are just right for each other for a time, and then they aren’t anymore, but that doesn’t mean the time before was bad or didn’t bring anything to both of them.”

That was very, very kind of her, Andromache thinks. Miryam will be satisfied. A bit cold, perhaps, but she just can’t help it. She is done with this relationship and, harsh though it may sound, done with Mor. She believes what she said – for a time, their relationship was good and she will always be grateful for that. But she sees no cause to maintain any kind of relationship with Mor after this.

“But I don’t want to go on without you,” Mor whispers.

Is it too cold if Andromache tells her that she will get over it in time? At least that’s the experience Andromache made in her two previous relationships. (Well, the first of these relationships barely lasted more than a month, but that didn’t make Andromache at eighteen feel less like she was dying when her then-boyfriend broke up with her.) On the other hand, that is probably not what Mor wants to hear right now, and given that this is her first relationship, it might be best if she makes these experiences on her own.

“You’ll manage,” she says. “I was the first person you loved – I doubt I’ll be the last.” For the sake of the good years they had, she makes herself smile. “I was happy to have met you, Morrigan. I wish you a long and happy life.” It is true, too.

Mor is crying harder again and doesn’t seem capable of saying anything, but that’s alright. Andromache would have appreciated some kind parting words from her, but she doesn’t need them. She is perfectly at peace with the way their relationship ended – this meeting’s intention was to give Mor a resolution, not her.

She gets up, inclines her head to Mor one last time, and walks out of the garden, leaving Mor alone on the bench.

----

On the Continent, the evacuations continue, the chaos showing no way of easing yet. By contrast, Prythian is almost eerily calm. The only court that is losing any territory is Spring, where everyone is busy moving hundreds and thousands of people, but up north in the Night Court, one might think there are no evacuations happening at all.

Mor enjoys the quiet. It offers a nice contrast to the storm raging inside her, and gives her all the time in the world to nurse her broken heart. After that terrible last conversation with Andromache, she fled to the cabin in the mountains where Rhysand is still recovering – or, lately, quietly seething at the fact that his father forbid him from going after Amarantha on his own – and together, they spend days in solitude.

They are a good fit these days, both of them equally miserable. For the most part, they do not talk at all. Rhysand wants to be left alone with his rage, and Mor doesn’t feel like talking about what happened with Andromache either. Well, she wouldn’t have felt like it even if Rhys had known about their relationship in the first place.

As far as she can tell, Rhys believes she is mourning Miryam and Drakon. About them, they talk once or twice, but Mor usually blocks off the conversation. She loves Rhys, but she isn’t prepared to talk about Miryam yet. Not when Miryam and their last argument are so closely tied to everything that is now wrong with her life.

Some days, she sits outside in the cold and twists the necklace in her hands. She hasn’t found the courage to actually use it yet. If Miryam wanted Mor to get it, that likely means she wants to talk to her, but what would they even talk about?

Nothing Mor might say would change anything about the facts. It won’t undo what Miryam did in the Black Land, or the argument they had about it. Nor will it erase the fact that Mor promised to protect Miryam, and then she left, and then Miryam almost died. It won’t make Andromache want her back, either.

Mor is sitting outside with the necklace again one day when Rhys sits down next to her. “What is the business with that necklace?” He asks. “A gift from a lover who left you?”

“No,” Mor chokes out. And then, before she can think any better of it, she is telling him the truth. Not everything – not a word about Andromache – but she tells him what the necklace is, what it does. She wants to mention her argument with Miryam, but every time she tries to repeat what happened, her voice abandons her.

After she is done, Rhys is silent for a while. Finally, he says, “I’m not sure if you should visit them. It would be a risk.”

“How so?” Mor asks, perking up.

“Well, if Miryam and Drakon wish for people to think they are dead, you visiting them would only put that in danger, wouldn’t it? What if father notices that you are gone and starts asking where you were?”

Mor flinches. She didn’t consider that option yet, but he is right. It would be irresponsible to visit Miryam. Even if Miryam asked for it, Mor shouldn’t… At least not right now. Maybe in a few months, once everything has settled down and she isn’t watched this closely by her uncle anymore. Maybe by then, things will have calmed down all on their own, too. Sometimes, time is the best medicine.

Yes, Mor thinks. This is right. Soon enough, things will have calmed down and it will have stopped hurting and then, she will be able to talk to Miryam again, too. It will all be alright. It just takes a little time.

----

The next two months are so busy that the time seems to move at twice the normal speed. That it takes over a month to move everyone to Cretea seemed inconvenient at first, but having people appear one after the other on Cretea actually turns out to be a blessing. That way, the first people to arrive can already start setting up a camp, scout the terrain and look for food. All of this is be painfully necessary because Cretea, densely forested and full of unknown plants and animals as it is, it definitely not an island you just want to dump a million of people onto without preparation.

By the time the last of their people arrives and Miryam closes her bridge spell, they have not one but actually five separate camps, all within less than an hour of each other, to avoid people being too densely crowded in one area and polluting the water. They also have some makeshift huts erected and catalogued most of the common fauna and flora as well as mapped the nearby parts of the island. The cartographers and scouts especially have done great work, but everyone on Cretea did their part.

Loathe as Miryam is to admit it, though, everything would have been a whole lot more difficult if not for Daín’s help. Within a day of the first people arriving on Cretea, they realized that the island is completely different from the rest of the Continent. More than half of the local plants and animals are unknown even to their experts, and it is impossible to tell which ones are dangerous. (For example, who would have thought that the tiny elephants living in the jungle can spit poison if they feel threatened?)

Daín, having apparently been the one to create Cretea as a wedding gift to Étaín, knows all the local specialities, though, and he is willing to help, which forces Miryam to put her lingering anger with him aside for the moment. To his credit, he doesn’t tie his help to any demands, doesn’t even ask Miryam and Drakon to forgive him for what he did in exchange. Drakon still seems to forgive him, even though his arm still hasn’t gotten better. Miryam doesn’t feel inclined to do the same yet.

Busy as they all are with trying to settle into Cretea and not be killed by the wildlife, she barely notices how the time passes. It’s like she blinked and suddenly, more than two months have passed since that battle on the ocean floor. On the Continent, the evacuations are drawing to a close. Not everyone is settled in yet, of course, and on the Fae side of the Continent, it is already obvious that there will be struggles over borders still to come, but everyone has reached their side of the Continent by now. Which means the wall will go up soon.

The realization hits Miryam like a punch to the chest when Andromache calmly tells her that they will cast the wall spell in less than a week. Before she even had the chance to truly comprehend what is about to happen, it’s Andromache’s last visit and they are forced to say goodbye to each other.

Andromache seems entirely calm about the situation, which just makes it more difficult for Miryam. Words rarely fail her, but now, they do. Andromache is one of her closest friends – the idea of losing her like this is unbearable. It almost feels like Miryam is killing her herself.

Andromache seems to guess her line of thought, though, because as she hugs Miryam goodbye, she whispers into her ear, “I know you like to blame yourself for things that aren’t your fault, and that you won’t listen to me when I tell you that you hold no blame for a decision I made freely. I still want you to not blame yourself for this, though. Consider it my last wish if you want.”

Miryam isn’t sure if that is a wish she will be able to honour, but she still makes herself nod. After Andromache has disappeared, she spends a long time staring at the space where she was just standing, trying not to think about anything at all. Then, she turns around and walks over to the nearest human camp.

It is perched in a valley, and Miryam finds a flat stone on a nearby hill where she sits down. From up here, she can see the entire camp, all the people moving round down there, going about their daily activities and simply living. Children are running through the camp, chasing each other in some made-up game. Fires are burning everywhere, adults preparing dinner over them.

Miryam smiles softly. Maybe in a moment, she will go down there and join the hustle, maybe find herself some dinner and join the groups of people sitting around in front of the tents. For the moment, though, she is content to simply watch.

She loves moments like this. They remind her that even if many things didn’t go the way she planned, at the end of the day, she got the most important thing she wanted, the only one that really mattered. At the end of the day, they won and they are free, and that’s all that really counts.

She just wishes Jurian was here to see this. He would have loved it as much as she does and it is so beyond cruel that he never got to see that the victory he sacrificed so much for.

“I miss you,” she whispers.

She doesn’t believe that anyone is there to listen, doesn’t even believe in an afterlife, but some things are better said out loud. For some words, it is easier to be able to pretend that there is someone listening.

“I wonder what you would make of everything if you were here.” She smiles, shaking her head slightly. “You would probably be against the wall far less than I am. You would think I’m stupid to dislike it so much, I know. We might even argue over it. I would give anything to be able to argue with you over that one more time. But mostly I just… I really wish you were here to see this. We won. And it kills me that you never got to hear about that.”

The only answer is the wind rustling in the leaves. What wouldn’t Miryam give for one chance, just once more chance to talk to Jurian. How is it that she got a second chance at life but he didn’t?

She tries to comfort herself with the knowledge that Jurian would be happy for her. If he was able to talk to her, he would probably tell her off for feeling guilty that she lives while he is gone. He would want her to live a happy life, the same thing she would have wanted for him had their positions been reversed.

“We won,” Miryam repeats once more, and then, she gets up and walks down to the camp.

----

The sunlight pierces the darkness without warning. Had Jurian been able to, he would have closed his eye against the sudden light, but as it is, he can only wait until his eye adjusts to the brightness and he can see again. Slowly, Amarantha’s face comes into focus in front of him.

“Have you missed me?” She asks.

Even if Jurian had been able to reply, he wouldn’t have. He didn’t miss Amarantha, of course, but after so long trapped alone in the dark, even the face he hates the most in the entire world is a welcome sight. He doesn’t know how long it has been since Amarantha shoved his eye into that casket, furious over the Loyalists’ defeat and clearly trying to sour the victory for Jurian, only that it felt like an eternity trapped alone in the dark, moments blurring together in a never-ending stream of terribleness.

“It’s been almost three months,” Amarantha says as if reading his thoughts and picks the ring with his eye on it up.

“Such a long time!” She seems in a good mood today, and Jurian is immediately suspicious. Her good news tend to end badly for him. “There is so much you missed. Do you want me to tell you?”

Yes. No. Jurian doesn’t know. If he still had a body, he is sure his heart would be racing. Any news that has Amarantha in such a good mood can only be terrible indeed, especially when it must be bad enough to counter her anger over the Alliance winning the war.

“Well, one thing you certainly didn’t miss was your allies looking for you,” Amarantha says casually. “Because they didn’t. They seem entirely content to leave you to rot. If you ask me, they are probably glad to be rid of you. Not that I can blame them.”

Once, Jurian might have objected – internally, at least – but now, he cannot. He has run out of possible explanations for why none of his friends came to save him yet, especially with the war now over for months. They should have come. But they didn’t, and the only possible reason is that they do not care.

“No, there was something else I wanted to tell you about,” Amarantha says. “I even considered interrupting your little time-out for it, but I thought you could use some time on your own to contemplate how little use your side winning this war was for you in the end.”

Desperately, Jurian tries to cling onto the knowledge that this war was still worth it. If they won, that must mean slavery was abolished. Millions of people must have been freed. It was worth it.

It is difficult to truly feel that way, though, when he cannot see the effects. All that’s there for him is pain and suffering, and none of his supposed friends seem to be willing to help him. It’s like they won and then forgot about him, like they had no use for him anymore and so they threw him away.

“Well, now you hear a few months too late,” Amarantha continues. She smiles at him. It is not a pleasant smile, showing far too many teeth. “Your little mortal lover – sorry, former lover – is dead.”

Jurian’s world goes entirely still. It’s a lie, is his first thought. It has to be a lie. A poor one at that, given that he knows the war is already over. Miryam cannot be dead.

“That lesser faery she betrayed you with is dead as well, although I doubt you are sad about that,” Amarantha continues. “As well as a whole bunch of other people, mortals and faeries, mostly. Ravenia sent soldiers after them, and they somehow managed to completely wipe each other out. Everyone dead, on both sides.” Her smile broadens further. “I find it beyond amusing, honestly. Although I would be really curious to know what you think about it.”

What he thinks about it? He thinks, of course, that it cannot be true. And if it was… No, he cannot bear to think about that.

“She betrayed you, after all,” Amarantha continues. “You did everything for her, and she couldn’t even be bothered to try and save you. Maybe she was too busy with that faerie prince she picked over you. Maybe she was glad to have you out of the way.”

Jurian wishes he could block out her words. He doesn’t want to hear what she is saying, but he can’t stop it. The words are like poison, all the deadlier because there is at least a spark of truth in them.

Amarantha shrugs. “If I were you, I would probably hate her. I’d be glad that she is dead.”

Jurian isn’t. He isn’t. He could never hate Miryam, could never want her dead.

But she must have hated him and wanted him dead if she never came for him. He tries to tell himself that she simply might not have had the time, that she might have come for him after she freed her people had she survived to do so, but it isn’t a good enough excuse. Had it been Miryam being tortured, he would have dropped anything to try and save her. Nothing, absolutely nothing could have been more important.

And she left him for Drakon, Drakon who wouldn’t even try to save her when she was in danger. Jurian told her to stay away from him, but she didn’t listen, and what did it get her? It’s her own damn fault if she died.

No, no, he doesn’t mean that. What is he thinking?

Amarantha smiles like he knows exactly what is going on in his head. “You are glad,” she says, and Jurian spends the entire rest of the day forcing himself to relive all the good memories he has of Miryam to prove to himself, to Amarantha, to everyone, how very much not glad he is.

----

Given that Andromache is going to die in less than half a day, she is surprisingly calm. She spent the last days settling all the needs to be settled. She visited her mother and all her remaining family, met up with any close friends and wrote a few letters that are meant to be opened only after her death. Most of the meetings went well. Her mother didn’t want to let her go at the end, hugging her again and again which just made it harder for Andromache to leave, but at the end of the day, she feels that all of the meetings were a success.

Her people are not yet entirely settled in, but her successor will see to that. Everyone will be provided for, and Andromache is sure that Ania is a good choice as a successor, someone who will govern fairly and wisely for the years to come. Everything is settled. She isn’t leaving any loose ends behind.

With only five hours to spare before she wants to meet the other queens, though, she suddenly finds herself with nothing left to do. Everything is settled, but Andromache still feels like she needs act, to somehow do one last thing even if she doesn’t know what. Her hours are so limited now, she can’t help the feeling that she ought to be using them to their fullest extent.

Yanis eventually finds her wandering through the palace aimlessly. He doesn’t say a word, just takes her by the arm and leads her to one of the gardens. They sit down amongst two rose bushes. With autumn approaching, the flowers are raining petals on the pathway. With a start, Andromache realizes that she will never see roses in full bloom again.

She swallows against the sudden tightness in her throat. In all the last months, she avoided thinking about all that dying entails. She thought about the fact that she has to die plenty, of course, but she never really allowed herself to contemplate what that means. And there were a million different things to consider, her people and the evacuations and the final council meetings keeping her so busy that she simply didn’t have time to think about it.

Now she does, though, and she doesn’t like it at all. Like most people in the world, Andromache doesn’t want to die. There are so many things she still wants to do. She would like to see Angolere rebuilt south of the wall, and see her people thrive. Should it ever become possible, she would like children of her own, and a partner to grow old with should she find someone she can imagine spending her life with. She once thought it might be Mor, but it wasn’t, and she would have liked to have the time to find someone else.

Maybe she should have asked Miryam what dying feels like. But no, that would just have made Miryam feel worse about the entire situation. Besides, she doubts bleeding out from a spear to the chest feels anything like being consumed by a spell.

She supposes at least she get to see another sunrise, as they chose dawn as the time to cast their spell. Hopefully, the morning won’t be cloudy so she will get to see the sun one last time.

Slowly, Yanis takes her hand. His rough, callused fingers squeeze hers.

“Remember our first mission, when we were rooky soldiers together?” He asks.

“When we were sent out to chase that band or faeries that had attacked the village?” Andromache asks, a smile tugging at her lips. “And you idiot thought you could get into a fistfight with one of these lion-wolf-mixture things and win?”

“It knocked my sword out of my hand!” Yanis objects. “I was panicking.”

“Lucky for you I still had both my sword and my senses, or that thing would have taken your head off.”

Yanis grins, but his smile soon fades. “Anni, I – “

A messenger bursts into the garden, nearly stumbling over his feet in his haste to bow to Andromache. “Your Majesty,” he says, holding out a letter to her. “From Queen Nakia. She said to deliver this to you.”

Frowning, Andromache takes the letter. She sees no reason why Nakia would write her a letter now, not when they are both going to die together in a few hours. She breaks the seal and unfolds the parchment.

Dear Andromache,

If all goes according to the plan, this letter will be delivered to you by midnight, which means that by then, it will be too late for you to change anything about any of it. I apologize for lying to you, but I didn’t think you would agree with my plan, and I had to do what I thought best for our people. I hope that you will be able to forgive my ploys.

For all that I believe we have all chosen worthy successors, it would be irresponsible to leave our people without any experienced leaders in a time like this. We couldn’t all die, and I trust that you and the others who remain will keep our people safe and lead them into a bright future.

It has been my honour to work with you in the last nine years.

Your friend,

Nakia

----

Queen Nakia of Scythia considers herself a practical woman. As such, it became clear to her quickly that robbing the humans of their entire leadership in one go would be a very, very bad idea. Admittedly, it was her bad idea, and at the time where she suggested it, it might not have been so bad at all, but now, there is simply no way sacrificing all six queens in one go is the right thing to do. Not when it would bring instability to their people in a situation as precarious as this one.

Fortunately, Nakia listened closely when Miryam initially explained the spell to them all. Back then, she said that the spell would work not only for the people it was tied to, but also for any close relatives. Some reading in books stolen from abandoned Fae libraries confirmed quickly enough that any close relatives to the other queens would work just as well as sacrifices.

It was not difficult to find people willing to step in for the other queens. Andromache’s mother. Sehline’s older brother. Mije’s uncle. Kjani’s grandmother. Only for Leline, there was no one since her entire family had died two years ago during an attack, so she is in the forest where they met to cast the spell along with the others.

Some part of Nakia feels bad for going behind the other queens’ backs like this. They will not be grateful to her for sparing them at the expense of their loved ones, but she is not doing it for their sakes. No, glad as she is that Andromache and the others will get to live, she is doing this solely for her country.

As for herself… Well, she had plenty of relatives of her own she might have asked, but she didn’t. A child should not die for its mother, nor a grandchild for its grandmother, and while Elmira is still young and inexperienced, Andromache and the others will easily able to support her through the initial years queen, just as Nakia herself did for so many others.

She had a long life, and a good one. For forty years, she ruled her country, kept her people safe. She watched her children and grandchildren grow up. Now, she gets to die knowing that her people will be forever free from slavery, never forced to fear the Fae again.

It is good, she thinks as she sketches symbols she does not understand into the earth around her, following the instructions Miryam left closely. The moon is standing high above in the sky.

Nakia finishes the last symbol and turns to face the others. “Shall we?” She asks.

They all look back at her. Some are crying, others firm. They all nod, though.

Nakia turns to look up at the moon. Slowly, she begins to recite the spell, keeping her gaze fixed on the moon above. It is the last thing she sees.

----

Miryam isn’t sleeping. She is lying in bed fully clothed, head resting on Drakon’s shoulder and his arm wrapped around her. When she senses the magical tremor running through the air, she sits up bolt upright.

“What happened?” Drakon asks, sitting up as well.

Miryam shakes her head, gasping. She can still feel the magic thick in the air, pulsing like a second heartbeat. It is not a pleasant sensation. And there, miles and miles away, she can sense something else. A barrier running through the world, cleaving it in two.

“It’s too early,” she whispers, stretching out her senses to investigate that new barrier. It is too far away for her to get a proper read, though. “Andromache said dawn.”

“The wall?” Drakon asks, turning around to her.

“Yes,” Miryam says slowly. She swings her legs over the bed’s edge and walks towards the door to the tiny hut they are sleeping in. She looks outside over the sleeping camp, as if to assure herself that they are still there. “The wall is in place now.”

----

A/N: So, this is not the last chapter after all. There will still be an epilogue coming, set 10 years after the wall went up, to wrap up some loose strings and also just... generally end on a positive note. That is obviously hard to do in the direct aftermath of basically 7+ years of extremely traumatizing events, but I do want to give off a HOPEFUL expression of the future, so an epilogue it is.

Tags: @croissantcitysucks @femtopulsed @aileywrites

#NOT the last chapter after all. we'll have an epilogue still #but the last part of the main story #very excited for everyone's reactions #the epilogue will be happier i promise #before the wall #miryam #jurian #drakon

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ptergwen · 4 years

Text

truth serum

a/n: ok ok ok i've had to post this four times now because it won’t show up in tags for some reason? i’m so :/ tumblr pls stop setting me up bruh. but moving on here’s a summary of the original request and i hope ya like

warnings: little bit of cursing here and there

when tom asked if you‘d be interested in going to a comic con with him, there was only one answer: yes. you‘ll take every chance you get to see him in his element. you’re looking forward to checking out some of the cool exhibits they’ll have — and people. comic con is a safe space for all your nerdiness. so really, both of you will be in your element that day.

the only thing you’re uneasy about is tom’s fans. you have no idea how they’ll react to seeing you by his side for hours on end. paparazzi caught you together once or twice, but you couldn’t tell much from their blurry pictures. that didn’t stop everyone from talking.

you’ve been named his new “mystery girl,” and tom still hasn’t adressed the whole situation. no matter how much he loves his fans, he’s not willing to spill every single detail of his personal life. spending time with his girlfriend doesn’t need some big explanation to please the public.

this is the first time you know for sure that you’ll be seen with him. comic cons are huge, and somebody always has their phone out at these things. you don’t want the fans to end up hating you for being there, or tom for bringing you. the way he sees it, they should just be happy he’s happy. anyone who isn’t never truly cared in the first place.

tom usually arrives early to go over his schedule and any last minute details. this time, he’s sleeping in a few hours extra with you. no one knows better than him that all day events can be draining. he wants you well rested and feeling good for it. since people are already at the venue, you’re using a different entrance to avoid getting mobbed.

“stay close, okay? i’m not sure what it’s like in there yet. might be a few people by the door, or a crowd.” you’re walking hand in hand with tom through the back lot. he feels you tense up next to him at the mention of a crowd. they overwhelm the hell out of you, and you’re suddenly feeling way underprepared for this.

“but we’re going in through the back. how are they gonna know that?” you grip his hand tighter without realizing. tom half smirks at your question and leads you over to the door. “my fans figure everything out... almost everything. you ready?”

shrugging your shoulders, you lean into his side for comfort. “sort of. i’m just getting nervous about being around so many people.” “i know, baby. not gonna lie, it’s pretty scary at first. but i’ll be with you the whole time.” he presses a quick kiss to the side of your head. you do feel better knowing he won’t leave you alone when you get inside.

“just try turning your nerves into excitement. it works for me every time. “i’ll do my best. i guess we can go in for real now.” tom’s thumb brushes over yours reassuringly, looking at you once more for any signs of doubt before he opens the door.

only a couple of fans notice tom is there, so it’s not as hectic as you thought it would be. he waves to them and says hi, a smile lighting up his face. you chew your lip nervously and let him take you to where he needs to be. obviously, you get a few stares. some pointing, some whispering. they’re all things that come with being pressed into tom holland in front of thousands of people.

tom brings you over to the check in area and gives both of your names. a woman with a headset on hands him two ID cards. he thanks her before pulling you aside so you two can have a moment of privacy.

“how is it so far? feeling okay?” his voice is soft unlike the yelling around you, which is nice. tom slips the lanyard with the ID over your head. “i’m getting used to it. i don’t know how you do this almost every day,” you admit, tugging on his own lanyard that he’s holding. he wraps an arm around your shoulders.

“i’ll tell you what, it’s a lot easier when you’re with me,” he mumbles into your ear, using that as a way to subtly leave a kiss to the skin. the little things like that are what will keep you together throughout the day.

a man with a headset and planner comes up to tom. why are so many people wearing headsets? he reads off tom’s plans for today, then ushers the two of you over to do meet and greets once tom has everything down. tom already called and explained that you’d be joining him, so he had it arranged for you to sit with the photographer and watch.

that’s definitely going to get people curious. he doesn’t mind too much, as long as it makes the experience more comfortable for you.

“i’ll be right over here. you’ll tell me if you need anything, yeah?” tom gazes out at the long line of fans waiting to see him, meeting your eyes after. “don’t worry about me. go give your fans some hugs.” you squeeze his hand and smile to let him know you’re okay. he smiles back even bigger before going over to greet the first person they send over.

this set up is way better than what you’d expected. you get a front row seat watching tom do silly faces and poses, and he can check in with you from time to time. there’s the occasional “who is that?” or “is it true that you’re dating her?” question from someone nosy.

tom responds with something along the lines of “that’s y/n. she’s a really lovely girl. she’s super awesome,” followed by a wink only for you to see. you find yourself having to hide your blushing face from all of his antics.

after about two hours, tom gets a break from photo ops. he decides to use the time to do whatever you choose, since you’ve been watching him for a while. you just walk around until there’s an announcement that a hypnotist show is about to start, and anyone can attend. you’ve never seen people be hypnotized in person, and it sounds like it could be fun.

tom lets you pick the seats. you end up towards the front for a closer look. his hand rests on your thigh as soon as you’re both seated, missing being able to touch you all day. you lace your fingers with his and watch as the show starts.

you’re both having a good time, laughing along at all the different segments. the guy hosting it is really entertaining. “now, let’s move onto a part of the show i like to call ‘truth serum.’ it’s simple. i’ll choose a member from the audience and get them to spill their guts for all of you, about anything i ask. who shall it be?” he rubs his chin and looks around the room.

he makes eye contact with people around you. you’re regretting getting seats in the third row. you pray he won’t call you up, but that would be too convenient. “ah!” he claps his hands together, gesturing to you. your mouth runs dry. “thanks for volunteering, come on up!”

you look at tom, silently asking if you should. “go on. i kind of wanna see this,” he wiggles his eyebrows at you devilishly. clenching your jaw, you walk past him and onto the stage. the hypnotist taps a chair for you to sit. you just had to be the lucky person he chose. “can we get a round of applause for...” he holds his microphone down to you.

“y/n,” you say into it, your voice coming out shaky. there are at least two hundred people staring up at you right now. “y/n!” he repeats. “everyone put your hands together for this brave soul.” the audience claps, tom cheering the loudest among them all.

“so, y/n. you seem excited to be up here,” the man jokes. tom watches with amusement as you give an unsure smile at the audience. “is it that obvious?” you get a few laughs. maybe this won’t be the train wreck you’re anticipating.

“extremely. y/n, i want you to look at your right hand for me.” he takes a step back, you doing as he says. “focus on your fingers and how they’re curling towards you. keep focusing. notice how you’re feeling more and more relaxed.”

everything he’s saying is actually happening. wanting to remember this, tom takes out his phone and starts recording. “bring your hand over to your forehead. let yourself feel the skin to skin contact. just like that.” you’re starting to feel sleepier. “and close your eyes.” the hypnotist snaps, and there’s silence throughout the auditorium. “you’re in a deep sleep. well done.”

you’re completely passed out with your head hanging low. everyone claps again, gasping and chatting to each other. tom is one of the gaspers. “y/n, you just guzzled a whole can of truth serum. you’re an open book. you love to share. when i snap again, you’ll wake up and answer whatever i ask you. truthfully,” the hypnotist tells you.

he waits a moment, then snaps his fingers. your head immediately snaps up. more gasps. tom puts his hand over his mouth, muffling his laughter at whatever you’re about to say.

“good morning, y/n. how are you doing?” “stiff. my neck hurts a lot for some reason,” you answer honestly, rubbing the back of it. the hypnotist has a smug grin on his face. “very good. we’re going to start off with some basic questions to see where you’re at. they mirror the five senses. y/n, what’s your favorite thing to hear?”

“my boyfriend’s voice. oh my god, and he has the cutest hiccup laugh,” you clasp your hands under your chin. tom is glad his phone is hiding his face so no one can see his cheeks turning pink. “hiccup laugh?” the hypnotist makes a face. “it gets stuck in his throat sometimes. it’s actually so cute.”

“what about your favorite smell?” “oh, that’s an easy one. sandalwood.” you casually reveal to the audience. “tell us why you like sandalwood so much, y/n,” the hypnotist prompts you. “it’s the scent of shampoo my boyfriend uses.” tom practically melts when he catches on. all your favorite things so far are related to him.

“i think we should skip ahead and talk about that boyfriend of yours. you seem to really love him, huh?” “more than anything. if you were planning to ask about anything else that’s my favorite, i’d say him.” there’s a big “awwww” from the whole audience, tom included.

“isn’t that sweet? where is your boyfriend right now, y/n? i’m sure he’d want to hear this.” “he just did, he’s in the audience.” you tell the hypnotist as if he should already know. tom’s lovestruck smile fades away. he hopes the hypnotist realizes it’s too personal to make you keep talking about something like this.

you have no control over what you’re saying, and it’s not going to end well. “why don’t you point him out for us so we can give him a big round of applause?” scanning around for tom with bright eyes, you get out of your seat. you point at him. “he’s right there.”

the whole audience turns to look at who you’re pointing to. tom lowers his phone, his mouth open in shock. everyone starts shouting as soon as they notice it’s tom. you’re confused over what the big deal is, since you’re still not fully yourself. the hypnotist realizes the mess he just caused, quickly sitting you down again to bring you out of it.

“y/n, i’m going to snap again. when you wake up this time, all the truth serum will be out of your system,” he says just to you over the noise, tom sinking down in his seat to avoid questions. the man snaps his fingers. there’s silence like the first time, everyone waiting to see what you’ll say.

you have no memory of anything that happened a few seconds ago. all the eyes on you are freaking you out. “wh- what did i say?” you ask him, biting down hard on your lip. his eyes dart over to tom. he speaks to you without the microphone. “you told the audience about your boyfriend.” it takes a second for you to register what he said. then you see tom down low in his chair, and you’re humiliated.

for yourself, but mostly him. you can’t believe you exposed your relationship in front of all these people. you run off the stage and out of the auditoruim, too embarrassed to say anything else. tom doesn’t hesitate to chase after you.

you’re breathing hard and fast, stopping somewhere there aren’t too many people around. your mind is racing while you try to figure out what’s going to happen next. someone puts a hand on your shoulder. it’s tom. he turns you around to face him.

“fuck, i- i’m so sorry. i don’t know what was going through my head, i shouldn’t have talked about any of that stuff. this is gonna be a nightmare for you,” you spit out all at once. tom only pulls you to his chest. he rubs circles around your back, trying to calm you down.

“it’s not your fault, angel. you didn’t have a choice about saying those things. you know that, right?” huffing, you hide your face in tom’s chest. “but still. i exposed us and i exposed you and now everyone knows something you didn’t want them to. you should hate me right now.” his lips press into a deep frown at what you’re saying. he rests his chin on your head and sighs.

“baby, i’m not mad. the only reason i wanted us to be a secret was for you.” you look up at him hesitantly, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. “so i didn’t destroy your whole career in two seconds?” “of course not. there have been way worse things i’ve had to deal with than publicly dating my really lovely, super awesome girlfriend. this won’t be easy, but i promise we’ll get through it together.”

you cheer up a bit hearing him repeat his words from earlier, nodding as you let yourself process everything.

“do you think anyone got me on video? or will they just post about what i said and everyone will believe them?” “i personally recorded the whole thing. not sure about the rest of the audience though,” tom proudly admits to you, making you groan into his chest. “great. that means we should probably say something before the twisted versions of the story come out,” you reason.

he considers it for a moment, and you can see when a lightbulb go off in his head. “what if i officially introduce you to some fans at my next round of photo ops? tell them about us, see how it goes. then we can decide what our next move is.”

it’s a huge relief that he’s taking this slow and giving you a say on how to go public. feeling brave, you peck his lips as a thank you. he’s surprised at first, but kisses back. he can finally see why those annoying pda couples exist. his arm takes its place around your shoulders again, yours going around his waist this time.

“let’s go share our not so secret relationship with the world.”

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carynsilver · 4 years

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Favorite Fics: Drarry Edition

Like I mentioned last time, reading has been a big comfort to me with all this craziness and sheltering at home, so I want to pay it forward and send love to some of the writers whose work has been brightening my quarantine. Thanks, guys!

For this list, we’re leaving the MCU for a while and heading over to the Wizarding World. I liked Harry Potter when it came out, but I never really read much fanfic until I realized a couple of years ago how much a redeemed Draco fit into the redemption trope that I loved in Harringrove, LoVe, SnowBaz, and other fandoms and ships. Once I started perusing the fics out there, I realized that one of the strengths of this fandom is the length and quality of the stories. I love stories that are a meal, and Drarry provides so many!

As I’ve gotten into the ship (so many years late, lol), these are my top 10 favorites.

dirtynumbangelboy by @magpiefngrl

This is probably the Drarry fic that I most enjoy. I come back to it fairly often when I need just a good read in the HP world. Fake dating is one of my absolute favorite tropes, which made this one an automatic win for me, but it’s written with such heart. I really, really love Draco in this fic. His uni studies and his flat being so different from the diffident image he projects. This is also probably the best Astoria I’ve ever read. Also--Jam Today! Read it now!

Do It All Over Again by DracoWillHearAboutThis

I only discovered this series earlier this year, and I’ve already read it at least three times from beginning to end. It’s a re-telling of the original series starting from Book 1. Draco sends himself a letter from the future basically saying that his dad is wrong, and he needs to give up his pure blood ideals and befriend Harry, then--boom--the Golden Trio’s adventures all happen with Draco in tow (and eventual romance, of course). The plot is fairly similar to the actual series, but I am there for the angst and the character growth. Narcissa kicks ass in this ‘verse, and Draco/Hermionie as besties is a treat! Book 4 and Book 6 are both amazing. And her titles are hilarious. This is the only series on my list that is still a WIP, but there’s plenty to read. Books 1 - 6 are complete, and a new chapter for 7 comes out every two weeks. It’s a safe bet so far, and it’s so good--why wait?

A Secondary Education by Thunderbird587

In this fic, Draco takes a job as Potions Professor at Hogwarts after getting divorced under horrible circumstances and renews his acquaintance with Harry, who is the DADA Professor. It’s got a bisexual awakening, and manages to combine friends with benefits with some supreme pining. Like a whole pine forest. Thunderbird587′s Draco POV is so fleshed out, and yet it also lets us see how Harry is pining, even when Draco himself doesn’t. Plus, at over 200K, it is long enough to get lost in for ages, which is perfect right about now. And when you finish the main fic, there are three other ancillary fics, two in Harry’s POV that take place during the main one. The cufflinks one is my favorite, but the writing is so good that I even thoroughly enjoyed the third sub-fic that fleshed out an OC. So, so worth the read--all of it!

The Foundations!verse by Saras_Girl

All of the fics by Saras_Girl are great. You can’t go wrong with any of them. But Reparations, Foundations, and all the little one-shots after are my favorite. It honestly surprised me at first, because alcoholism is a trigger for me, but this fic actually helped me realize that it’s the addiction part, the fall to rock bottom that triggers me. Recovery stories are different. And, I guess, this one is a bit different in that, though it has plenty of characters recovering, Draco himself is actually in a healthy place and facilitating recovery without relapsing. Harry is a Healer in this one, which is not the usual, and I quite enjoy his other relationships in this ‘verse, as well. He, Ron, and Hermione’s friendship is great in this one (their pub nights crack me up), but I also really like Harry’s friends at St. Mungo’s. My second favorite Terry Boot ever, and two awesome OC chicks. And the process of Drarry going from can’t stand each other to in love is slow and prickly and yet really believable. Oh, and Harry and Narcissa’s relationship in this one is just fabulous.

Golden Age by zeitgeistic (faire_weather)

The Hufflepuff in me was bound to fall in love with this fic. I really enjoy Eighth Year fics, especially the ones that embrace inter-house unity (shouldn’t have taken them a war to see the need for that!). This one takes it to a new level when everyone in... I think it was 6th - 8th years were resorted at the welcome feast, and the whole 8th year dynamic is shaken up. Harry, Draco and Neville become Hufflepuffs; Hermione and Pansy become Ravenclaws; Ginny becomes a Slytherin; and somehow Ron and Blaise are the ones who stay in their houses because the hat thinks they are basically the uber Gryffindor and Slytherin. But with the rest of them, we get to see them embrace other facets of their personalities, which is super interesting. And then, after the resorting, we find out that Hufflepuffs have a whole different world going on that basically no one outside their house knows about, and that world is brilliant. Even Hufflepuff food in the Great Hall is different! Everyone would enjoy this story, I think, but if you are a ‘Puff, you really, truly should not miss it. And if you like this one, check out some of zeitgeistic’s other works. Her world building is fabulous.

Life skills outside the curriculum by Endrina

In this fic, Harry gets fed up with the Dursleys before his 11th birthday and runs away before he gets his Hogwarts letter. He ends up on the streets and somehow embraces this kind of instinctual magic that is really fascinating. A few years later, Draco runs away rather than get involved more closely with the Dark Lord, and of course they meet up. This whole fic is super compelling. Harry’s world view and the way people gravitate toward him even without chosen one status. Also, this fic has one of my favorite versions of Remus and Sirius ever. I really wish there was a part two that went in depth on everything that happened after the end of this one, but even on its own it is so worth the read. And everything is wrapped up. I’m just greedy and would’ve loved more. :-)

A Convenient Impracticality by @firethesound

This fic combines friends with benefits and fake dating into a really enjoyable story. Harry is so oblivious, but it all works out in the end. And Draco is a secret mastermind, but in a good way. So is Hermione. Unlike some of the other, angstier stories on my list, this one is so fun, and I love it. And if you like it, check out more of firethesound’s work, as well. It’s worth it!

you’ve got the antidote for me by kandakicksass

And then, back on the angst train, lol. Soulmates, red string of fate, rejected bond = terminal disease. Whew! There’s a lot to unpack in this one, but after I read it, I never forgot it. I read a lot of fic in a lot of fandoms, and I always know a story is going to become a favorite if it stands out so much that I remember it later and think about it. That surely happened here.

(We’ll Call This Fixer-Upper) Home by phdmama

This is one of the first fics I read on my first Drarry binge, and I’ve always remembered it. Just like I love Eighth Year and Hogwarts professor fics, I also love fics where they have really unexpected jobs--pretty much anything other than Aurors. In this one, Harry is an artist/photographer and Draco is an up-and-coming rock star. The music and art, the creativity is important in this fic, but it also really looks at Draco’s recovery after the war in ways I haven’t read since, and I’m also a sucker for our favorite characters actually addressing and recovering from their trauma.

Boom Clap (The Sound of My Heart) by @femmequixotic and noeon (noe)

This fic takes the Eighth Year trope to the next level. Draco, Harry, Hermione, and some other faves are teaching fellows at Hogwarts. Junior professors, kind of. It read like if the HP crew went to college. And, of course, Draco and Harry fall in love along the way, but not without much angst and obliviousness. I really enjoy the Draco POV in this. His worries and anxieties feel so real for that stage in his life, but amped up because of the past. This was one I read, never forgot, and then had to go back and find so i could read it again.

So, those are my top 10, but there is lots of other good Drarry out there--both from these authors and all the others in the ship and the fandom. Thanks for all the writing you guys do.

Oh, and tagging @virtual-insomnia, but only because she said she might want to make some quarantine fic lists of her own. :-)

#drarry #fanfic rec #fanfic #reading #highly recommend #harry x draco #draco malfoy #harry potter #quarantine reads #thanks for writing these fics

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mnthpprt · 4 years

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Chapter 31: A Devil By Any Other Name

The theatre is already full when we arrive, but the best seats are reserved for le Comte and me. From our box, we can oversee the crowd below, eagerly awaiting the start of the play. As the lights dim, I pull out a cigarillo and quickly light it with my red plastic clipper, hidden from view. Soon, the audience in front of us becomes enveloped by darkness, their chatter dying down to a dead silence as the curtains begin to open.

They reveal a woman. She sits alone on a wooden chair on the left side of the stage, which has been made to look like the interior of a humble home. She glances to the other side, nervous, as the chants of an angry mob grow louder. They enter from the right, carrying pitchforks and torches, and begin to pound on the detached door that separates them from the other half of the stage.

Meanwhile, the woman pours salt on the floor, drawing a circle, and falls to her knees in front of it. It is not God that she prays to, no. Instead, she summons a tall man in a black cape and a mask made of a goat’s skull, who appears through a trapdoor on the floor amidst a puff of smoke, earning a few gasps from the audience. The Devil is here.

She has been accused of witchcraft, she tells him through tears of desperation, and the villagers want to burn her at the stake. And so, she sells her soul in exchange for shelter in order to escape such a horrible fate. The Devil, having agreed to hide her, extends his hand to the witch. The second she takes it, the theatre grows dark once again. This is the end of the first act.

During the brief pause, I turn to le Comte. He has been completely absorbed by the play, just as I was.

“Interesting story, isn’t it, my chérie?” he leans down to whisper. I agree with a nod.

“I heard he only writes about things he has seen,” I say in the same tone. I believe it, though clearly there is more metaphor than pure fact in the script. “Who do you think this one is about?”

“I have a pretty good idea...” I look at him, tilting my head. He does not take his golden eyes off the stage. I guess he anticipates my question, because he dismisses his own answer before it ever leaves his mouth. “But it’s still too soon to tell.”

I narrow my eyes. I wonder what he’s truly thinking, what he is refusing to tell me. Before I can probe any further, however, the curtains open again.

This time, the witch and the Devil are alone on the stage, with him holding onto her protectively. The set has changed to look like a dark cave, decorated with luxurious furniture in what looks like an attempt to make it look like an expensive home. No, not any home. Hell. The Devil’s realm. I must admit, whoever worked on the props did an amazing job setting the mood.

Le Comte remains completely silent for the rest of the play, even during the brief breaks between the five acts. I make no attempt to talk to him, to ask him more questions, for I know that he will not provide the answers I want. I see his jaw clench when he notices me observing him. He’s hiding something.

Meanwhile, the witch is welcomed into Hell as the Devil’s special guest. She is hesitant and scared, at first, but quickly becomes accustomed to her new living situation. The Devil treats her kindly, cares for her as part of the deal, and soon she falls in love with him. At some point there is a monologue during which the actress laments that she has given him his soul, and debates with herself whether she should give him her heart as well, ultimately concluding that, despite her feelings, it would be too dangerous.

Back on her little cottage, the villagers search for her, to no avail. Time passes, only for the witch who disappeared to have become a legend. She sees that, from Hell, and deems it safe to go back, so she decides to ask the Devil to let her go. He has completed his part of the deal, she tells him, and now it is time for her to return.

The Devil laughs. There is a slight problem, he says, menacingly stroking her cheek. Her soul is his forever, which means she can never leave. She uselessly fights to escape, but ends up bound by chains beside the Devil’s throne. When he leaves her alone, there is another monologue. The witch is determined to get back at him for taking not only her soul, but her life as well. In order to attain revenge, she will play along, seduce him. The play ends with her having become the queen of Hell, ruling beside the Devil like the Persephone to his Hades, but visibly unhappy. It is a tragic fate, to be trapped in the role of his unwilling lover for all eternity.

The curtains close, obscuring the image of the Devil smiling under his mask, a terrible laugh echoing across the theatre, as a single tear falls down the witch’s cheek. When they open again, the cast lines up to take a bow, revelling in the audience clamor. I clap, and glance to my side to see le Comte doing the same.

“That was really good,” I say in an attempt to prompt some words out of him. It doesn’t work.

“Hm,” he nods thoughtfully. Okay, I need to know what this is about. Asking him would be useless, so I wait until most of the audience has left to make my way towards the stage. I can hear the actors celebrate their success from the wings. Once there is no one but le Comte and me in the theatre, I climb onto the stage.

“Hey! Guillaume!”

The main actress peeks her head from behind the curtain. She looks a lot taller from here, practically towering over me. She takes a look at the seating to check if everyone has left before disappearing again behind the heavy fabric. The curtains open, this time clumsily pulled away by some of the actors.

“There’s a woman looking for you,” I hear the actress say to Shakespeare, ushering him forward. He smiles when he sees me.

“Anaïs, my dear!” He takes my hand ad tries to bring it to his lips in his usual greeting, but I use the gesture to pull him towards me, standing on my toes to peck both his cheeks like I would with everyone else.

“I loved the play. Looks like the audience did, too, congratulations,” I chuckle, amused by the surprised expression on his face. He recovers quickly, wrapping his arm around my waist as I turn to the cast, that observe me with mild curiosity. “You were all fantastic. And you,” I point at the lead, the tall woman that played the witch. “Girl, you were amazing. I almost cried at the end.”

“Aw, thank you!” she laughs. “I’m Bernadette, by the way. Nice to meet you.”

“You too.”

Le Comte, who has been standing to the side, steps forward to congratulate Shakespeare on the play. I give them some space to talk, deciding to mingle with the actors instead, but their conversation is over quickly.

“I should head home. Have a good evening, Guillaume,” le Comte says before looking at me. “Shall we, ma chérie?”

“We were thinking of going to a tavern to celebrate,” Bernadette interrupts before I can answer, a friendly smile on her freckled face. “Needles to say, since you are friends of Guillaume, you are both invited. What do you say?”

“Count me in,” I smile. Le Comte politely excuses himself, something about him having work to do at the mansion. We leave shortly after him, once the actors have changed out of their costumes.

Our destination is conveniently placed right beside the theatre. It is much larger than the one I went to with Arthur and Theo, but the atmosphere is the same. We make our way to the back, and the men from the troupe join a few tables together to allow seating for the entire group. I pick a spot on the bench in the corner, next to where Shakespeare has left his coat.

“I would like thou to meet someone, my sweet rose,” he tells me. When I look up from adjusting my dress, I notice a young man that wasn’t at the theatre. “This is my friend, Antonio.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” The newcomer greets me with a nod and a charming smile that reminds me of Mozart’s when we were at the ball. He has an accent strong enough for me to place.

“Likewise, Antonio. Italiano?” I ask, tilting my head. His smile grows wider with amusement.

“Sì. Tu lo parli? (Yes. Do you speak it?)”

“Ehh, solo un po’, ma capisco quasi tutto (Only a little, but I understand almost everything),” I humbly reply, shuffling to the side to make space for him. “Sono spagnola (I’m Spanish).”

“That’s... actually decent,” he replies, surprised.

Shakespeare, who I hadn’t noticed leave, returns with a large tray full of champagne glasses and an uncorked bottle.

“I want to thank you all for your hard work, and for being the best troupe in all of France,” he declares. “For the rest of the night, drinks are on me!”

His announcement is met with cheering from the actors, who quickly serve themselves a drink. The man who played the Devil, whose name I have forgotten, passes me two glasses from across the table. I give one to Antonio.

“All the world’s a stage, and all the men and women merely players,” he continues, raising his champagne. “To the best players I have ever had the pleasure to work with!”

“And to the best director!” The tall actor chimes in with a surprisingly boyish smile. The rest of the group echo that sentiment before we all drink. After taking a sip, Shakespeare finally makes his way around the table and sits down beside me, effectively trapping me on the bench between him and Antonio.

“Did I mention Anaïs here is an outstanding dancer?”

“No, Guillaume, don’t make this about me,” I complain, blushing.

“It’s true!” he laughs. “I saw her with mine own eyes, with none other than Wolfram Theophilus Perti. That ball surely was something, dost thou not agree, my rose?”

"Are you wearing perfume? It smells lovely!” I change the topic, elbowing him under the table. I lean closer to ‘smell’ him, but whisper in his ear instead. “What game are you playing, William?”

He smiles innocently, fully aware that I’m not buying it for a second, but I play along. It is too late, however, for Antonio has already heard what he said.

“You know Perti?” he asks, looking at me with wide eyes. “Are you his friend?”

“Something like that,” I answer, taking a large sip of champagne. “We live together.”

“Ooh, lucky girl!” Bernadette chimes in from across the table. “I watched him perform once, and my God, he is beaucoup trop jolie! The most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.”

“I know, right?” I giggle. Though I have recovered most of my strength, I can still feel the effects of my recent blood loss. The alcohol is certainly getting to me a lot faster, making my cheeks burn red. I notice Antonio staring intensely at me, but I don’t know what to make of it. “Why, do you know him too?”

“N-no,” he stutters, unconvincingly. “I am just an admirer of his work.”

Normally, I would find his reaction at least a slight bit suspicious, but my tipsy brain chucks it down as him being a flustered fan, so I don’t give it much thought.

“So, how do you know Guillaume?” I ask, trying to make conversation. Antonio’s eyes focus behind me, I guess exchanging a look with the subject of my inquiry.

“We have a friend in common,” he simply says. That statement means nothing to me. From what I’ve seen, ‘Guillaume’ is friends with everybody.

I leave it alone for the rest of the evening, talking to the actors instead. Bernadette is surprisingly hilarious, and the one who played the Devil, whose name I now know is Timothée, is a total sweetheart. He is the youngest of the troupe, barely nineteen, and the reason he was chosen for the role is that he was the only one tall enough to wear the costume, but he did an astounding job. Regardless, the rest of the actors still tease him like a little brother.

When the time to leave arrives, Shakespeare kindly finds me a carriage to go back to the mansion. I say goodbye to the rest of the group and step out into the street, only accompanied by him. He opens the door for me and helps me climb into the carriage, and I politely thank him. Before I shut the door, though, I pull him closer.

“I don’t know what you’re trying to do, Will, but whatever it is, stop it,” I tell him, suddenly serious.

“Whatever dost thou mean, my rose?. 'Tis merely a favour for a friend,” he says, his melodic voice seeping low through his smile. I narrow my eyes at him, wondering what that favor could be.

“Are you pimping me out?” I gasp, incredulous. He just laughs and shakes his head, but does not correct me.

“Farewell, Anaïs.”

And with that, he pulls away, shuts the door between us, and slaps the roof of the carriage, signalling the driver to start moving. I glare at him through the window, unsatisfied with how the conversation ended, until he is out of sight. With a tired sigh, I sink into the stiff leather seat and close my eyes. It’s been a long day.

#ikemen vampire #ikevam #ikevamp #ikemen #ikemen fanfiction #ikevam fanfic #ikevamp fanfiction #ikemen vampire fanfiction #ikemen vampire comte #ikevamp comte #ikemen vampire shakespeare #ikevamp shakespeare

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lynxfur9 · 3 years

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Healthy Proteins.

Peptide Bound Glutamine Vs Basic Glutamine.

Content

Legal Use Declaration: Aqua Peptides.

Post Information.

Sarms Discussed.

Freshwater Pearl Sarm Locket > Rosely".

On average it takes 7 working days for the blood examination results to come back from the medical facility, depending on the precise examinations requested. Some specialist examination results might take longer, if examples have to be sent out to a referral research laboratory. If you are signed up to make use of the on the internet services of your local practice, you may have the ability to access your outcomes online. Not eating for 8 to 10 hours prior to blood testing is generally needed. There are 4 phases of protein folding, primary, secondary, tertiary and also quarternary. Individuals getting the therapy required much less insulin, recommending they could still make several of their very own.

The initial NMR experiments obtained will certainly check out the state of the healthy protein as well as it's viability for refresher course at the selected NMR healthy protein focus, acquiring 1D 1H and/or 2D 15N HSQC spectra. When a peptide includes an inner proline, solid ion series because of internal bosom are observed, extending from the proline in the direction of the C terminus. Pieces will only be spotted if they bring at the very least one charge. If this charge is kept on the N terminal fragment, the ion is classified as either a, b or c. If the fee is kept on the C terminal, the ion type is eitherx, y or z. The Hypo Program is the world's first as well as only organized education program.

Call Us Regarding This Technology.

C-peptide may be gauged when there is abrupt or persisting hypoglycaemia. Signs and symptoms consist of sweating, palpitations, appetite, complication, visual troubles and also seizures, although these symptoms additionally can occur with various other problems. The C-peptide examination may be made use of in these situations to help determine the source of excess insulin, i.e. whether it is being generated in your body or originating from extreme shot of insulin.

If incapable to send example instantly, freeze at -20 ° C as well as send out at ambient temperature in the blog post. For long-lasting storage (e.g. to batch examples), we advise freezing at -80 ° C.

Lawful Usage Statement: Aqua Peptides.

Hannah has a degree in Human Biology and many years' experience working in laboratories around London. Utilizing this experience, Hannah delights in turning intricate science right into interesting, appealing and easy to absorb items to read. In her spare time, Hannah runs, practices yoga exercise and also enjoys cooking plant based foods. Yet with this comes the concern that they might then be little sufficient to go into the blood stream, as well as the long term effects of this are yet unidentified. Every occasionally, a brand-new skin treatment ingredient goes along as well as guarantees to be the following big point consequently back the clock and also making our skin soft, supple, hydrated, plump as well as younger. Others assure to complete great lines as well as creases, whilst others claim they can lighten locations of pigmentation or aid to reduce the scarring brought on by acne. For adults, 5 ml of blood taken right into a slim gold or rust top tube.

Do peptides make your hair grow?

Peptides, being “smaller proteins,” when applied, cause changes in cell behavior, stimulate follicle growth, and promote natural hair production and improvement of hair color.

AminoA items are natural bio-stimulants gotten with chemical hydrolysis. The manufacturing technique warranties that the end product is of the highest standards and quality. Chemical bodies that have an "amino" team as well as an "acid" group. As they have an alkaline team and an acid group, they can act as an acid or an antacid, relying on the pH of the solution in which they are had. Our unflavored Multi Collagen is the excellent enhancement for soups and full-flavored recipes. You can imagine, after that, a polypeptide particle as a chain made from flat rectangle-shaped plates joined by the Ca atoms.

Write-up Info.

In a beta-pleated sheet, the chains are folded up to make sure that they lie together with each various other. The next layout reveals what is referred to as an "anti-parallel" sheet. All that means is that next-door chains are heading in opposite directions. Provided the means this particular folding occurs, that would certainly appear to be inescapable. Hannah de Gruchy is a freelancer writer who is experts in wellness as well as health. She has an eager rate of interest in the biology of skin as well as enjoys utilizing her words to assist divide the actual science of skincare from the pseudoscience of some skincare brands.

Our 30% peptide blend contains an ingenious shipment system which makes certain that all our peptides can dive deep into the lower layers of the skin for ideal result.

Peptides usually find it hard to reach where they require to be; they are large as well as dislike being around oil so they have a hard time to fit through the small, oil-based spaces in between skin cells.

Use high quality specialist glass and polypropylene vials can reduce this problem.

Collagen and elastin manufacturing is enhanced, fine lines and creases are smoothed as well as the skin's all-natural stores ofhyaluronic acid are elevated.

We provide a total range of peptide and healthy protein solutions from brochure products with to GMP manufacture from very early stage to business launch.

As the light-weight lotion is massaged right into the skin, the 30% peptide complex starts its multi-faceted technique to renewing the skin.

Almac's peptide as well as healthy protein technology offering is a key component within our suite of solutions.

Sourced from Bovine-- We resource our collagen solely from Europea livestock which are pasture-raised as well as finished, their diet is 100% GMO cost-free as well as they are likewise without antibiotics and also hormones too. Where this comes in beneficial is when you are comparing tablet computers or blends of collagen, if a 10g offering size claims there is just 1000mg of collagen, after that you can see that there is just 10% collagen in this tablet/sachet.

Sarms Described.

For the blood examination itself, an example of blood will certainly be drawn from your arm as well as it shouldn't take far more than a minute. If you take blood glucose lowering drug you will likely be asked to quit taking these in the run up to the test. Instead of MHC class I, MHC course II molecules do not dissociate at the plasma membrane. The systems that control MHC course II destruction have not been developed yet, but MHC class II particles can be ubiquitinised and after that internalised in an endocytic pathway. Versus Arthritis was developed in 2018 following a merger of Arthritis Care and Arthritis Research UK.

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CP1 is an unflavoured powder that conveniently liquifies and also mixes right into any kind of cool or warm beverage, without adding any type of flavour. Each scoop of CP1 gives you with over 90% pure healthy protein, that improves the nutritional profile of any kind of drink, smoothie or other drink. There is no safe level of drug use.Use of any medication always brings some threat-- even medicines can generate unwanted side effects. Polar zippers in between neighbouring beta sheets resulting in the formation of wide and also stiff nanoribbons. The brand-new test is currently in available in many NHS depends on, as well as is now supplied to everyone diagnosed as Type 1 diabetes mellitus for at the very least 3 years in Glasgow as well as Edinburgh. The Exeter group has developed a brand-new urine test for C-peptide, as well as shown that a straightforward blood test when a person is seen in clinic can also accurately measure C-peptide, changing previous methods which were costly as well as taxing. These examinations are currently offered in virtually every hospital in the UK, as well as expense as little as ₤ 10.

The remaining grammage will be comprised of the additional bulkers, fillers or components. This is a bit of an advertising and marketing term used in the collagen sector, however, it can be handy to comprehend just how much collagen is actually in a serving of an item. If the collagen brand name can not give you with information of where the livestock, poultry or fish are from - move on as well as choose a firm that can. When keeping an eye out for a collagen supplement be sure that you recognize where the pets have come from, as not all collagen coincides.

But https://pharmalabglobal.com/product-category/melanotan-2/ of the therapy will need to be examined in future tests with even more individuals and longer period. The primary function of the test was to check the new therapy for safety and security, but scientists also observed some positive impacts of peptide immunotherapy. However if the entire immune system is compromised, people are extra vulnerable to infections and cancer.

This clumping of hydrophobic molecules is called hydrophobic communication. An example of thioester link is the one between the thiol team of CoA and the carboxylic group of acetic acid in Acetyl CoA. Glycosidic bond undergoes deterioration in a process called glycolysis. It is a hydrolytic procedure in which a water particle is used to damage the glycosidic bond and release the carbohydrate and also various other residues. Based on the stereochemistry of the anomeric carbon or its alignment in space, a glycosidic bond can either be an alpha-bond or a beta-bond. In an O-glycosidic linkage, the carbonyl team of carbohydrates responds with the hydroxyl group of an additional substance. This causes a substance in which the sugar or carb residue is affixed to the oxygen of the other compound, thus the name O-glycosidic bond.

Tumours can typically avoid being targeted by these T Cells by resembling a cell found generally in the body commonly referred to as "self". If a team of T Cells can be motivated to recognise these tumors as foreign as well as not self after that they will attack the tumor as well as supply a reliable treatment versus it. If the result of UCPCR runs out keeping with other professional searching for after that we would certainly recommend repeating the examination specifically if it is unexpectedly low. Patients tipping out boric acid preservative from pee collection tube, in an example taking more than 3 days to reach the research laboratory can lead to unnaturally low outcomes. UCPCR is mainly to be made use of in individuals on insulin treatment to analyze endogenous insulin secretion. Steady for 3 days in Boric acid containers at ambient temperature level.

But unless you're devouring on these on a daily basis, opportunities are you'll have a hard time to get an optimum amount of collagen with diet regimen alone. In light of this, there are some terrific methods to increase your collagen consumption with normal diet plan by taking a genealogical approach as well as eating a genuine food diet plan. to pharma lab global Purchase Sermorelin can improve your collagen consumption with typical food by eating more organ meats, making bone broth as well as making use of points like oxtail, ears as well as trotters.

You will need to quick before a C-peptide blood test if the results will certainly be used to assess hypoglycaemia. Additionally, a suitable blood sample taken throughout a hypoglycaemic episode might be enough.

So scientists are working to selectively target parts of the body immune system believed to be straight in charge of the attack in Kind 1 diabetic issues. There are additionally concerns over whether collagen can make it through the digestion process. Collagen is discovered in and as a result typically originated from pets such as cows, pigs and also fish or other fish and shellfish. Products having collagen are not vegetarian as well as might be unsuitable for people with various other dietary demands. HydroPeptide is the future generation of anti-ageing with sophisticated peptide modern technologies.

AsclepiX Therapeutics, Inc. Doses First Patient in Phase 1/2a Trial of AXT107 Intravitreal Self-Forming Gel Depot Peptide for Diabetic Macular Edema (DME) Proteins and Peptides News Channels - PipelineReview.com

AsclepiX Therapeutics, Inc. Doses First Patient in Phase 1/2a Trial of AXT107 Intravitreal Self-Forming Gel Depot Peptide for Diabetic Macular Edema (DME) Proteins and Peptides News Channels.

Posted: Wed, 06 Jan 2021 09:57:58 GMT [source]

Opt for pasture-raised, European cattle if opting for bovine as well as check that there is no antibiotics or hormonal agents utilized - along with no GMO feeds. Enhances Joint and also Bone Health and wellness-- Collagen replenishes, brings back and also enhances joints and also bones. Supplementing the diet regimen with collagen has actually been shown to raise bone toughness, promote healthy bone turnover as well as decrease the effect of ageing on our skeleton. Purchase AOD- pharmalabglobal.com provide the body with a source of collagen that is incredibly bioavailable, so they can start to work their magic as soon as they're ingested. If diet regimen alone isn't mosting likely to make the cut when it comes to wrecking your collagen consumption after that the issue is intensified when you think about the reality that our all-natural collagen production slows down as we age.

The diffusion pressures set up would certainly suffice to hold the folded structure with each other. You will certainly likewise discover that this specific version has 2 various other particles locked right into it. These are the two particles whose response this enzyme catalyses. The colour coding in the model aids you to track your means around the framework - going through the spectrum from dark blue to wind up at red. It is feasible to have some a lot more challenging folding to make sure that next-door chains are in fact heading parallel. We are getting well past the needs of UK A degree chemistry currently.

NT-proBNP is released into the blood circulation in equivalent total up to the active hormonal agent but is substantially a lot more secure and for this reason forms a good pen of BNP result. N-terminal professional B-type natriuretic peptide (NT-proBNP) is an inactive peptide released together with the active peptide hormone BNP when the walls of the heart are extended or there is pressure overload on the heart e.g. by fluid overload. BNP then acts upon the kidneys creating liquid as well as sodium loss in the urine as well as mild vasodilation so launching the pressure. Proteins are 3-D macromolecules made from at the very least one polypeptide chain.

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artificialqueens · 5 years

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The Good Times and the Valentines (Branjie) - Mac

AN: Thanks to multifandomgeek for helping me clean up this work. And BLESS my darling Grapefruit for betaing this hot mess express and trying to teach me how to stick to one tense. Y'all the real MVPs.

Summary: Vanessa and Brooke plan to do a Valentine’s show together to answer all the burning questions people have about their relationship. All is well, but Brooke is keeping a secret.

It was Brock’s idea.

Jose had been resting comfortably on his Canadian body pillow of a boyfriend, tracing lazy patterns over his chest when Brock mentions it.

“We should do a Valentine’s show together.”

Jose sat up to look at his boyfriend/body pillow, a lopsided smile on his face. “Yeah?”

Brock gave an equally happy grin in return. “Yeah. I think it would be a great way to talk with the fans, and really open up about our relationship.” Brock noted Jose’s raised eyebrow. “What do you think?”

“If you think it’d be a good idea, I’m down.”

“I know we have kept it under wraps these past three years, and I know that was difficult for you.” Jose nodded slightly. It had been Brock’s idea to keep their relationship private this time. Fans knew, for sure, but they didn’t talk about it openly in interviews or at shows. Just little hints here and there. It had been hard at first. The romantic in Jose wanting to tell anyone and everyone that this man, this wonderfully kind and talented man, was his and his alone.

“I want everyone to know without a doubt that you’re mine.” He cupped Jose’s face in his hand. “And I’m yours.”

Jose smiled even wider.

…

Their relationship after filming had been good. It was peaceful for a time, until it wasn’t. Nights got longer and lonelier as time moved on. They split up on semi-good terms. Neither really wanting to leave this comfort they had made, but they knew if they had any shot at working in the future, they needed time apart.

Then the show aired and there was no time to be apart.

They were thrust together for pictures and tours and performances. It was hard being so close and yet so farfrom the person you still cared deeply about. But they managed.

They managed for all of three weeks of touring before falling back into place.

Nina told them that it wasn’t enough time apart. She was probably right, but they didn’t care.

Jose’s hand felt safe in Brock’s. His arms felt right wrapped around Brock’s neck. His heart felt content in Brock’s chest.

It had taken a while to get the hang of it. Brock had to come to terms with expressing his feelings rather than bottling them up until he burst. Jose had to learn to be more patient.

It had taken quite a while before they finally got it right.

They took things slow. Very slow. They didn’t move in together till almost a year and a half of dating, and when they did move in, it was really more of a convenience thing. Brock had started out with his own drawer at Jose’s place. His one drawer grew to two drawers, grew to part of the closet, grew to both their clothes being practically interchangeable.

The moving in had been an adjustment as well.

Brock loathed laundry more than anything in the world, which is probably why he only wears that one goddamn red hoodie. Jose loathed doing dishes or cleaning up after himself in general. There were quite a few fights about each of their respective flaws when it came to tidying up. But the fights paled in comparison to all the other amazing things that came with living together.

Like how Jose made them have ‘date-nights’ every Saturday where they would curl up on the couch and watch a movie. They would alternate who got to pick the movie. Jose always opted for rom-coms and Brock tried his damndest to show Jose that other genres were pretty good too. Jose always ended up falling asleep when it was Brock’s turn to pick, but he couldn’t really be mad as the younger man snored peacefully on his lap.

It was the little things that made it all worth it. The way Brock would wake him up with kisses to his forehead or the way he would just look at him sometimes. Jose wouldn’t even be doing anything and Brock would just look at him like he was his world. Like he would steal every star in the sky if Jose just asked. Like he loved him.

Jose hadn’t actually expected Brock to follow up with the Valentine’s Day idea. But the next morning he got to work contacting their managers and clearing their schedules. Jose was surprised at how easily they got out of some of their previous engagements, but he wasn’t going to complain.

Rehearsals started two weeks before the show. Jose hadn’t expected there to really be rehearsals. He thought it was just going to be a fun night of the two of them bantering and performing after each other.

Brock had different ideas.

“No, J you have to turn left on 4.” Brock sounded exhausted.

He was. He hadn’t been sleeping well the past few nights. Jose had heard him pacing back and forth on their balcony, mumbling under his breath.

“I’m tryin, Mary. We can’t all be fuckin professional dancers on the first try.” Jose sounded agitated.

He was. Brock had been making them rehearse for the past six hours, and they had barely completed half the dance.

Brock had wanted to do this big opening number with all the girls at Mickys. It seemed like a fine idea, until Dance Instructor Brock took over. He was harsh and commanding and settled for nothing less than perfection. If Jose weren’t dead tired he would find it sexy. Right now he just found it annoying.

Jose spoke to the other girls in the room. “Let’s take a break.” They nodded their heads in agreement and made themselves scarce, giving the lovers time to talk.

Jose took slow steps over to Brock who was looking at himself in the mirror doing god knows what kind of move. Jose was irritated. Angry even. But he knew that had to be pushed aside for now. That was one of the many things he had learned in this relationship. If Brock was lashing out or being unbearable, it was most likely because he was hurting.

“Brock, baby, come talk to me.”

“Let me just-“

“Brock.” Jose spoke softly. “Please.”

Brock turned around at the tone in his boyfriend’s voice. He let his shoulders slump and his pristine posture relax.

“Hey.”

They looked at each other for a moment, letting the tension leave and small smiles mirror on their faces.

Jose stepped forward, still cautious. “What’s goin on up here?” He lightly tapped the side of Brock’s head with a finger. “Why you so intent on makin this perfect?”

Brock looked at him a moment, seemingly holding something back. “I just want it to be special. I know you love Valentine’s Day, and the past three years we haven’t been able to get it right.”

“Oh god, don’t remind me about the zoo.”

Jose saw Brock laugh, open and honest. The first he had laughed in what felt like days.

The three Valentine’s Days that they had been together had all ended horribly. One of them would plan something nice and it would inevitably go haywire. Leading to food poisoning, another cat to feed, and a lifetime ban from the Los Angeles Zoo.

Brock slid his hands into Jose’s, “I want it to be special for you. I want this Valentine’s Day to be perfect.”

It wasn’t the truth. Or at least, not the whole truth. Jose could tell there was still something eating at his boyfriend. But he let it go for now, and opted to smile, putting all the love he had on his face. Brock gave him a peck on the lips that felt far away even though they were inches apart.

“Alright. From the top.”

…

When the actual day arrived, Jose and Brock didn’t think too much about the show that night. They spent the day in all their favorite places. The little coffee shop around the corner from the hospital. The secret park they had found one night after drunkenly getting lost. Their living room. They talked and talked about everything and anything that came to mind. Content to just spend the day in domestic bliss.

But Brock dragged them away from their little paradise at around 10pm to head to Mickys. They got there early, thanks to Brock’s planning, and did their makeup in relative silence. Brock finished first, as always, and went to ‘check up on some things’ leaving a kiss on Jose’s cheek in his wake.

The crowd was electric. The place was packed full of so many people that Vanessa could barely see their faces. She and Brooke smiled to them and waved as they made their way on stage.

“Hi there everybody! How are you all doing tonight?”

The scream from the crowd was deafening.

“Lovely!” Brooke laughed. “Well we wanted to do something special for Valentine’s Day, so we are doing a show together for you guys.” The crowd cheered again. “And by the way for the Q&A we are gonna have you guys write questions down and let our lovely friends and managers pick the best ones for us to answer after the show.”

Vanessa chimed in. “There’s pens and paper at the bar, and while you’re over there grab yourself a drink, Mary. It’s Valentine’s Day.”

Brooke smiled at her and Vanessa marveled at how the butterflies still fill up her stomach at the sight.

The opening number went off without a hitch. However much Vanessa had loathed the long hours of rehearsing, Brooke had been right.

Vanessa kicked off the show with a high energy performance of ‘We Found Love’ - Rihanna and Vanessa being the ultimate crowd pleaser - the crowd was electric. They kept up the momentum with Brooke doing ‘Crazy in Love,’ a classic in her repertoire. Vanessa had always loved to watch her perform and stood in the wings of the stage, ignoring the knowing looks from their fellow performers. The two took turns back and forth performing a mix of pop and slow love songs. They even threw in a duet performance of ‘River Deep Mountain High’ and the audience ate up every minute of it, cheering especially loud at their banter between numbers. Vanessa, laughing like she never had before, Brooke, opening up and letting her personality shine through, rather than focusing solely on everything being perfect.

The Q&A kicked off with some sweet questions. Brooke and Vanessa alternated reading them to each other.

How long have you been dating?

“Three years.”

“Three years, a hundred and nineteen days.” Brooke corrected.

What is your favorite thing about one another?

“His eyes.”

“How loving he is.”

Who loves who more?

“I love you more.”

“Impossible.”

Best date you went on?

“For our third anniversary he took me to Disney World! Now if that ain’t a keeper I don’t know what is.”

“We went to this hole in the wall restaurant in Miami when we visited his folks. It was right next to the ocean, and we ate fresh seafood by the water and talked till the sun came up.”

The questions continued for almost an hour, becoming more and more sappy and Vanessa’s heart swelling more and more.

“Alright I think we can take one more question.” Vanessa said, trying to wind the show down after a look from their manager.

Steve handed Brooke the last question and Vanessa saw Brooke look at it quizzically for a second. Then a small smile teased the corner of her mouth. “Ok, this one is for you.”

Vanessa looked at her expectantly.

Brooke’s face softened all of a sudden, and in a split second, Brock was standing in front of her. The switch was immediate and Vanessa barely had time to register anything before Brock is speaking with a soft voice, reading the paper.

“I have loved you for what feels like all my life. I never knew that all I needed to be happy in life was a short Puerto Rican drag queen with a loud mouth and huge personality.”

Vanessa melted at the words and she suddenly knew exactly what was happening.

Brock’s eyes were watery as he continued on, looking up at Vanessa every other word, but still so anxious that he couldn’t look too long. “I am a better person for loving you. I know that to be true.”

Vanessa felt tears on her cheeks. She didn’t know when they had started to fall, but the floodgates behind her eyes had been released.

Brock angled the microphone away and reached for her hand as he whispered, “Don’t cry baby, you’re gonna make me cry.”

He pulled the microphone back to his lips. “You have effectively ruined me from loving anyone else. Which is good I guess, because I don’t want to love anyone else. Baby, there aren’t enough words in English to describe my love for you. Mi amor, there aren’t enough words in Spanish either. No language or words can show you all the ways you make my life better. Only actions.”

Brock breathed in and out and reached around the back of his outfit to pull out a small box. “So with that being said.” He got on one knee and Vanessa’s heart felt like it was beating out of her chest. Brock angled the microphone away again and spoke just to Jose. “Jose Cancel.” He put the microphone back to his mouth. “Will you marry me?”

Jose couldn’t pull Brock to his chest fast enough. He held him there for what felt like the rest of their lives. The audience was deafening, but Jose couldn’t even hear them. Focused on this moment. Focused on the now. Focused on how incredibly happy he was.

Brock pulled back and looked into his eyes. “Is that a yes?”

“Yes yes of course yes!”

Brock pulled him in for a kiss and it felt like everything fell into place.

The ring fit perfectly.

It was dramatic with small breaks in the silver exposing Jose’s finger and small diamonds placed strategically to fill the space. It was perfect.

Brock was perfect.

Jose couldn’t stop smiling.

Brock let Jose rest his head on the taller man’s shoulder as he wrapped up the show. “Well thank you guys so much for coming out tonight! And happy Valentine’s Day from me and mine to you and yours!”

Brock squeezed Jose’s hand and they made their way offstage to congratulations from their fellow performers.

When they made it back to their dressing room Brock turned and looked at him seriously. All the joy in his eyes a second ago had been replaced with worry. “I didn’t mean to put you on the spot out there. If you wanna take back your answer that’s fine. I understand.”

Jose shut him up with a kiss they both felt in their toes.

“When have you known me to say anything other than what I wanna say?”

Brock smiled at him. All his worry vanished. There was no trace of any hesitation or fear.

Only insurmountable joy.

#rpdr fanfiction #branjie #brooke lynn hytes #vanessa vanjie mateo #fluff #proposal #canon compliant #mac #the good times and the valentines

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calumbringbackthewatermelonshirt · 5 years

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Live Furious, Die Fast [c.h]

a/n: i wrote this because of @c-dizzle-swizzlex and @twoamhood so it’s dedicated to them. It’s pretty much modeled after the first movie with a bit of inspo from the others too, but like i said, i tweaked it to make it click better as i saw fit. There are also a lot of weird cuts in the movie and i couldn't include every scene so just bear with me. If you haven't seen the movie, the premise is that the boys are street racers who are running an illegal operation on the side. Enjoy! (this is still in the era of black haired cal) also, huge thanks to @calumh-excess who was crucial in the final stages of the writing process!

word count: around 8k

warnings: violence?

summary: If you haven't seen the movie, the premise is that the boys are street racers who are running an illegal operation on the side

Just for reference this is what car they all drive:

Luke: baby blue Porsche 911 GT2 RS

Ashton: cherry red 2019 ford mustang with a one cylinder nitro motor

Michael: purple honda civic with a V8 cylinder motor and green flames

Calum: jet black 1965 ford mustang GT with a two cylinder nitro system

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Boys were dumbasses. Calum knew this mainly because he was one. Still, it didn’t change the fact that, at their core, all boys were dumbasses. This was all Cal could think as he watched one of his closest mates offer up his pink slip over a goddamn race. Dumbass. Maybe Ash was one of the best racers in L.A. but there was no reason to take that risk unless absolutely necessary. Still, it was fun to see Ash pretend that his car wasn’t as fast as it actually was. Michael had done a hell of a job with the designs for the restoration, so, aside from Cal’s own car, it was probably one of the fastest ones in L.A.. Cal was grinning, but he hand his hand over his face to keep up his stoic appearance. While Cal may not have been able to stop this madness, there was no way in Hell he’d approve of it. Still, the adrenaline from the race was a hell of a rush. Especially as Ash hit the nitro and visibly made the other racer eat his dust. He won by quite a bit, too. Cal already knew that he and the boys would have a hot meal after turning the car. Usually they just sold the cars back to their original owners, which was convenient as fuck.

“Do you have to give them so much hope?” Cal reached into his pocket and drew out another cigarette and his lighter. He lit up and took a deep inhale. This “team” as they called themselves would be the death of him.

“Aw, c’mon mate. You know it’s more fun that way.” Ash giggled and checked out his new set of wheels.

“Alright, alright.” Cal took another drag of the cig. Being the leader of this rag tag group had its perks and its downfalls, one of them being trying to control all these asshats. “You’ve had your fun. Ditch the car and we’ll rollout.”

Ash chuckled again and waved Jake, the original owner of the car, over. It was a quick deal, ten gs for his car back. Jake knew how they rolled and was prepared to give the cash over without an issue. It was simple, just a standard Friday night. That is, until the cops showed.

“Everybody clear out!” Cal shouted over the madness at the first whisper of a siren. The more people that were in jail, the less money he made off them. So yeah, it was in his best interest to keep them out. Cal watched for a few seconds as everyone bolted to their cars and peeled off the street they had been using as a track. As soon as Cal saw Ash was in his car and heading, Cal hopped in his own ride and floored it. The cops were on his ass. Mainly because he had waited so long for everyone else to clear out. It took him a hot minute to lose the majority of them, so once he narrowed it down to only three sets of red and blue lights, he was ready to be done with them. He took two hard lefts, letting his car drift, but not too hard. He made sure to keep his car hugging the curb. One of the cops drifted too hard, practically wrapping his car around the telephone pole on the corner. Cal hoped the cop inside was okay, but it was still one less cop on his ass. Cal then drifted into another hard right and then another left as soon as he had cleared the curb, steering his car into an empty storage locker. He whipped the door open and slammed the locker door shut before the cops even rounded the first corner. He stopped for a minute and caught his breath before pulling his leather jacket back on and hoofing it back onto the street. He barely made it two hundred feet before a rather late cop came sloppily around the corner. Cal knew he was in for a shitstorm when the cop made quick work of a three point turn and headed back in Cal’s direction.

“Hey, Hood. Stop right where you are. Face to the Pavement.” The megaphone crackled over the cop’s loudspeakers. Cal just thought ‘fuck it’ and sprinted for the nearest alleyway. It was probably a lost cause, though. The alley wasn’t even a dead end, and Cal knew these idiots would chase him to the ends of the Earth. So when cherry red Nissan 370Z pulled up next to him, he didn’t hesitate to hop in. Maybe it was a little stupid and a lot reckless, but the only thing he could think of was staying out of jail. He didn’t bother to look at whoever had picked him up, instead training his concentration on the sirens getting louder and louder behind them. Whoever was driving him was having none of it, taking a wide drift out of the alley. The cop behind them tried to follow suit, but was instead hit by an oncoming car.

As they sped off, two more cops approach from the opposite direction. They tried to form a roadblock with their cars, but Cal’s driver knew what they were doing. The two of them were pushed and pulled by the momentum of the car as it swerved to avoid the obstacles in the road. The cops took too long to right their vehicles, so by the time they did, Calum and his mystery driver were already long gone. The road they had taken spilled out onto the highway where Cal finally got a good look at his supposed savior. To his somewhat surprise, it was a girl, and not even the kind he was used to. Most of the chicks he hung with were either blondes or brunettes, with tube tops and tight leather skirts that barely covered anything. This girls, she didn’t appear to be that kind of person. She looked more… clean cut. A typical upper class girl if he had to guess. Long and perky honey blonde hair and yellow green eyes? Just screamed cheerleader, especially with the ski-jump nose, high cheekbones and cream-like complexion. She certainly didn’t look like a racer. But when she opened her mouth, boy did she talk like one.

“So what’re you doin’ on this half of town?” She kept her eyes trained on the road, only acknowledging through her words. Her voice, though, was so unforgettable to Cal. Husky and low, the kind that you got from smoking a few cigarettes each day.

“Dunno. Guess I got lost.” Cal didn’t know this girl, didn’t know who the hell she associated with. While Cal may not have had outright enemies, he certainly had a list of people that didn’t like him, and vice versa. It was better to be wary than the say the wrong thing to the wrong person.

“Hmm. Well, buddy, you picked the wrong place to get lost. This place gets ravaged by Johnny Tran and his gang quite a bit. You’re not safe alone out here.” This time, she spared a couple glances in Cal’s direction. They drove on for a few minutes with only the sounds of the tires treading over the concrete. They were alone on the road for quite a few miles.

Before Cal knew what was happening, a set of eight motorcycles was flainking the car. His mystery driver noticed what Cal was gaping at through her rearview mirror, muttering a small ‘shit’ under her breath. She started to accelerate, but before she could enact whatever plan she was forming in her head, one of the cyclist pulled up next to her window.

“Follow us.” The cyclist was shouting to be heard over the wind, but Cal could very clearly see the muzzle pointing right at the blonde. When he turned, he saw a twin muzzle pointing at him, too. He saw the girl’s knuckles whiten on the wheel, her nails digging into the leather. Together, with the motorcycles, they flew down the highway, on the way to god-knows-where. The blonde-haired beauty sitting next to him furrowed her brow, but Cal could someow sense that this wasn’t the only thing that was eating away at her. He studied her face, trying to decide if it was worth trying to talk to her. Before he could make up his mind, she skidded to a stop in the courtyard of a rundown chinese restaurant. When she stepped out of the car, Cal couldn’t help but notice that she was packing. She placed her hand on the door and slammed it hard, the bang echoing through the courtyard. Cal followed suit, closing the door softer than his driver but still firm. He leaned his back on the car and lit up a smoke. He was tense, but he made sure to look at ease. There was no way in hell he was going to be intimidated by anyone. Their escort circled them, prevent any sort of escape or shit. Whatever. Cal was sure to appear unbothered by any of this shit, even when Johnny Tran and his cousin Chase came speeding around the corner.

“Well, well, Hood. I think you’re a little lost.” Tran unhooked his leg for the seat and then proceeded to lean back against it, taking the girl who had ridden behind him under his arm.

“Hood wasn’t driving. Sorry though, I, uh, guess I lost my map.” Before Cal could open his mouth, his driver snapped back at Tran, her voice just dripping with sarcasm and venom. Cal felt his eyebrows tug up a little. This girl had some heat in her veins. He’d have to learn her name at some point.

“I don’t think I was speaking to you, Turell. And until I do, you had better keep you damn mouth shut.” Tran physically didn’t seem angry, but Cal could tell by Tran’s tone of voice that he was. What about this girl was making his blood boil the way it so clearly was? Every step Tran took was ripe with tension. At least now he was able to put a name to her face. Turell. He’d have Michael run a records check later. She might could be of use to him in the future. With the way she drove, there were quite a few possibilities.

“You need something Tran?” For the first time since their arrival, Cal opened his mouth. He blew the smoke out of his lungs and snubbed the cigarette out under his boot. Cal lazily brought his eyes up to meet Tran’s and cocked his head at an angle.

“Nice car you got here, Hood.” Tran strolled around the perimeter of the car, taking in every detail. “Whatta think, Chase?”

“Nice Car indeed.” Chase shrugged the machine gun he was holding up higher into his arms, making sure it was clear to the duo that he and Tran could and would use it. Tran seemed finished with the interaction. He slung his leg back over the bike and motioned for everyone to wheel out behind him. They sped off, and just as Cal and Turell were about to get back in, they heard the all too familiar high-pitched whine of motorcycles once again. Tran and Chase rounded the corner once more, but this time, instead of stopping to chat, they both brought out heavy weight machine guns. They covered Turell’s car in a smattering of bullets, shattering the glass, deflating the tires, damaging the motor. It happened in a matter of seconds, Tran and Chase gone as fast as they came. Turell just sighed and started examining the car before a look of pure fear crossed her face.

“NOS!” She screamed, immediately turning and sprinting away from the car. Cal mutter a fuck before following suit. At the last second, they dove for it, both of them hitting the dirt as the car went up in flames behind them. Turell groaned and flipped over on her back, staring at the broken wreckage of her car.

“Thanks.” Cal stood up and offered her a hand, which she ignored.

“What for?” She sounded more tired than angry, which, for some odd reason, was a relief to Cal. He could put his finger on why, but he really just didn't want to be the cause of this girl’s anger.

“Everything, I guess.” Cal watched the girl brush herself off, not even bothering to go back to inspect the wreckage of her former car. He guessed there was nothing inside she need to keep. Or rather, nothing that could have survived. “I owe you one.”

“You owe me a ten second car.” She raised her eyebrows and pointed a finger at him. The way she said it was like it was a fact, not even up for debate.

Cal chuckled, brushing off her comment. They’d work something out later, but right now, they had to focus on getting back to town.

“So what did Tran want with you anyways, Hood?” She procured a cell phone from the pocket of her leather jacket and proceeded to hold it up, desperately trying to get a shred of a signal.

“I could ask you the same question, Turell.” Cal just shoved his fists as deep into the pockets of his jacket as they could go. It was a long story, and if presented with the option, Cal almost always chose to keep his mouth shut.

“AJ.” While AJ wasn’t ashamed to admit that the way Hood said her name was kinda sexy, she just wasn’t used to the idea of someone calling her ‘Turell’. She wasn’t a huge fan of her last name.

“Calum.” Cal offered his hand to her, a symbol of their acquaintance ship. They continued on in companionable silence for a while, only having miniscule conversations every once in awhile. After a solid five miles, they came across a point where AJ finally got service. She eagerly called a cab, saving them from the remaining fourteen miles on their feet. Cal just old the cabbie his address, not paying mind to the other occupant of the cab. He figured he’d pay for it, though. To somewhat make up for it.

Cal could hear the bass booming and shaking the walls of the house from two streets away. As soon a he got home, he was knocking heads together. Worthless dumbasses. He lumbered up to the porch before turning back and seeing AJ already halfway down the block, heading in what he assumed was the direction of her house. He thought for a moment before deciding that he did trust her, at least somewhat. Enough to invite her inside, he supposed.

“Turell! Want a beer?” Cal’s voice was rough against the mostly quiet street, but he could barely hear himself think over the bass of the house. He knew that, for whatever reason, he wanted her around.

AJ turned at the sound of his voice, a small smile playing on her lips. She didn’t say anything but she did turn and start walking back towards the house. Towards Cal’s house. Together they stepped inside, her smaller frame hidden by his large one. As soon as he came into their line of sight, both Ashton and Luke jumped up from where they were sitting.

“Cal, uh hey bud!” Ashton had a beer in his hand, slurring his words a little. “We were just about to go lookin’ for you!”

“Oh, shut up.” Cal sneered at the curly haired brunette standing before him with a beer in his hand. It was nice to know that while Cal had been chased by the cops, threatened by Tran, and on an involuntary ten mile hike, the boys had been nice and comfortable back at the house enjoying beers.

Cal walked back to the doorway where AJ was standing, but not before noticing Michael trying to get in a girl’s pants in the middle of the Living room.

“Oy. Turbo. Take it upstairs. You can’t paint a car without sanding it down first.” Cal shook his head as he picked his way through the drunk bodies. These boys would be the death of him. It was then he noticed Lindy. She was the final member of their little group, not counting Mali. Lindy had always been around as far as Cal could remember, but recently she had changed in ways that Cal wasn’t a fan of. To Cal, if you wanted others to respect you, you had to respect yourself first. Lindy had basically sold her body and while Cal believed that it wasn’t his place to tell her what to do with her body, he also wasn't going to take any part in that mess. Lindy, however, seemed to have her focus on something else. Or, rather, someone else.

“Why’d you bring that skank here?” Lindy was seething. She was leaning up against the door frame, arms crossed over her chest.

“Because the ‘skank’ kept me out of prison.” Cal could hear his voice rising as he spoke to her. He needed to walk away, fast, before he lost his temper. “That your beer?”

“Yeah, that’s my beer.” Lindy cocked her head at Cal, seemingly confused. Cal said nothing, instead just grabbing her beer and walking back to where AJ was standing.

“Here. You can have any beer you want, as long as it’s a Budweiser.” AJ smiled back and him and took the bottle from his hand. She then proceeded to make direct eye contact with Lindy as she wiped the mouth of the bottle for a solid minute with her shirt. Cal honestly thought it was pretty funny. Lindy looked like she was about to explode, but AJ was entirely unbohered, instead taking a long pull of the beer.

“Hey, do you have a bathroom I can use?” She turned to Cal with a slight smirk on her face. Her voice was soft, but Cal had no trouble hearing it over the bass. It had presence, an air of respect surrounding it.

“Upstairs. Second door on the left.” AJ turned and retreated up the staircase, Calum watching the whole time she was in view. Cal felt that there was a difference between her and the girls he was usually around, something about the way she carried herself. He found the respect she had for herself, the take no one’s shit attitude endearing. The way girls around here threw themselves at him, well, that just wasn't his vibe. But AJ, it seemed that all she wanted was her car back, nothing more. Cal respected her for that. So much so that he decided it would be a good idea to bring her to his sacred space the next day: his garage.

…

AJ had no idea what she was getting herself into. Hanging around with Calum Hood and his gang was no walk in the park. Especially with their rivalry with Tran’s gang. Tran had the numbers, but Calum Hood was a very cunning man. Still, it was inconvienet as fuck to keep getting kidnapped by Tran’s motorcycle gang, which was exactly what was happening right now. Although, now when the muzzle of the gun was shoved in her face, she sighed instead of getting all worked up. She found it worked better that way. They led her back to the same dumbass chinese place, and once again, AJ stepped out of the car that Hood had let her borrow and slammed the door.

“Were the guns really necessary this time?” AJ walked over to Tran who in turned opened his arms to her.

“Little sister. How nice to see you again.” Tran engulfed her in a hug, but AJ just sighed. She and Tran weren’t technically related, but they were pretty close. Tran had sort of taken her under his wing when she was younger, and they had remained close over the years.

“Hello, big brother. Please tell me your goons all had their weapons on safety.” AJ smirked at Tran, knowing full and well they didn’t. But she was still going to give him shit about it.

“Of course. Anything to report?” Tran really didn’t waste any time getting to the point. AJ didn’t either though, so she didn’t blame him for not making small talk.

“I think I’m in. Hood is practically wrapped around my finger. Although, was it really necessary to trash my car like that?” AJ was still sort of pissed about that. The Nissan that her brother had so ceremoniously trashed had been her first car, the one she and Johnny had practically built form the ground up.

“Hey. I promised I would make it up to you.” AJ knew that Johnny always kept his promises, but she was still a little pissed. Whatever he had for her had better be good.

“Remember. I need to know not only who, but how.” Johnny took her by the shoulders and looked directly into her eyes, gravely serious.

“I understand. If anyone knows, then it’ll be Hood. He has a hand in everything in the world.” AJ just rolled her eyes. How the hell was she supposed to be gathering intel if he checked up on her every second of every day. She just turned and walked back to her car. It was typical for him to worry about her, but it was still annoying as fuck. She just sped off, back to Hood’s garage. He said he had something to show her, and while AJ may not have known what the hell he was talking about, she had some hope that it was relevant to her conversation with he brother. Much to her disdain, Hood had other plans.

“Here you go.” Hood led her over to a beat up and burnt car. A true junker. AJ wasn’t even sure she could salvage it for parts.

“The fuck is this Hood?” AJ crossed her arms and smirked at Cal, who was grinning from ear to ear.

“This is the car.” Cal spread his arms and continued to smile. “You know, the one I owe you.”

“I asked for a ten second car, not a ten hour car.” AJ rolled her lips into her mouth, still not sure where Cal was going with this.

“Listen. You put about ten grand in and a few hours of work and this car will decimate.” Cal snapped his fingers and a pasty blonde man came over and put a set of plans into Cal’s open and awaiting palm.

“We’ll see.” AJ walked in a slow circle around the car, taking in every detail of it. The body may have been rough, but the car itself was the sickest thing she had ever seen. A 1969 chevy grand sport convertible. AJ’s dream car. Hood had no way of knowing that, but it was still a pretty fucking sweet moment for her.

“You can work on it here. If you can’t find the right tool in this garage, you don’t belong under the hood of a car.” Cal smiled at her one more time and then turned and walked back to his own car, eternally tinkering under the hood. AJ just smiled and lifted up the hood of the car. When she did, she let out a small whistle. Hood was right. This car would be killer, if they could fix it up that was.

“Hey. I’m Michael.” The same man who had given Cal the plans approached AJ and introduced himself.

“AJ.” AJ shook his hand, but her gazed remain on the car. She was trying to figure out all the schematics of the car, what color of paint, where the nitro can would go, how to reduce the maximum amount of weight while keeping the car functional.

“I have some plans drawn up if you wanna take a look.” Michael cleaned the grease off his hands with a rag and jerked his head in the direction he started walking. AJ followed him, but was still thinking about that damn car. It would be perfect when she was finished. Absolutely perfect.

“Here.” Michael led her over to a computer and typed in a line of code. Some blueprints popped up a few seconds later, for her car only better. There was an amped up version of her engine, a detailed list of every part they would need, even how many horsepower the car would have when they were done.

“Holy shit, man. You should have gone to MIT or some shit.” AJ was in awe. She had wanted to go to college, but life doesn't always work out the way you wanted. AJ both understood and respected that.

“Nah. I wanted to stay here, with my brothers. It’s the only life I’ve ever known, but it’s the only life I’d want to live.” Michael grinned softly at her, vulnerable but completely at ease. He used two fingers and pushed his glasses back up to the bridge of his nose. AJ smiled back at him, happy to be a part of their small but loyal group.

…

AJ wasn’t quite sure how she had ended up here. At a barbeque. With Calum Hood and his entire gang. But the food smelled delicious, so who was she to complain? They were waiting to eat til Lindy got here with the rolls and extra beer, but AJ didn’t mind, instead enjoying a casual conversation with Cal. Without realizing it, they slipped from casually talking, to kind of flirting in a way. Neither of them realized it, but Ashton and Luke watched them closely. They had never seen Cal this happy before, but it was a nice change of pace for him. It was peaceful for a few moments, Michael lost in a book, Ash and Luke appreciating Cal’s smile, and Cal and AJ lost in their own little world. It was nice, until they heard the roar of an engine approaching. Lindy.

“Lindy. Come help me with the rest of the chicken.” Cal welcomed Lindy, with a gracious smile and a nod of his head. Lindy, however, was in no mood for niceties.

“No, it looks like you have all the help you need there, Cal.” With that, Lindy threw the beer and rolls to Ash and Luke. She then climbed back into her car and sped off, back down the street.

“Her loss. The chicken is fucking amazing.” AJ snorted, brushing off Lindy’s downright rude behavior.

“You’ve eaten?” Cal looked back at AJ, an expression of disbelief on his face. He was dumbfounded at the fact that he had been standing there the entire time, laughing and talking to her, and yet AJ still managed to steal a piece of chicken and eat it. He was really more impressed than anything else.

“Uh, no?” AJ looked at him sheepishly, answering timidly. They all knew it was a lie, but it was worth a shot to try.

“Yeah, whatever. Let’s all of us eat.” Cal stated loudly, putting extra stress on the word all. Everyone help to gather the food together and set it up nicely on the table. It was like a typical american barbeque with family and friends. Not once had she ever felt anything even remotely like this with Johnny and Chase. This closeness. This type of family. It was utterly new and fragile, and it made AJ’s heart break a little knowing it would all be over so soon. The rest of the lunch went by smoothly, just so utterly comfortable. It was an easy transition from the soft lunch, to all of them munching on popcorn and watching some awful movie on TV. They were all a tangle of limbs, spilling of the couch and onto the floor. AJ was sandwiched between Cal and Luke, Luke’s long legs slung over her own and trapping her in. Still, she wouldn't have wanted to get up anyways. Which is why she had such a difficult time getting up to leave.

“AJ. Hey. What do you say we take the grand sport out for a test drive tomorrow? You know, before the big desert races?” Cal was still seated on the couch, only now he had a fast asleep luke completely slumped onto his lap.

“Sure thing. I’ll see you tomorrow.” And with that, AJ slipped out the door heading back to her apartment.

Cal smiled to himself, knowing no one else had shared that moment with him and AJ. While he was more than excited for her to be able to race the car, he was still somewhat disappointed that he wouldn’t be working on the car with her everyday for hours on end. Still, he was confident that they had made enough of an imprint on her for her to still come around. Although, Cal felt that she deserved a medal for putting up with them. Between Lindy’s bullshit and the boys’ dumbassery, AJ was a whole different type of person. The type that Cal, for whatever, found himself falling in love with. He knew it was a cliche, but Cal was more than ready to be the first to say that AJ was different from other girls. Cal didn’t care about the cliche though. He believed that when you were in love with someone, that someone truly is different from all other people. That person is so different because they’re yours. And no one could truly replace them.

…

Cal and AJ met the next day at the garage. Cal hadn’t let AJ see the final results, not the paint job nor the interior and chrome detailing. So the big reveal was a sight to behold.

“You ready?” Cal smirked, thumb hovering over the button on the garage door opener. It was exciting, both of them feeling the adrenaline flowing through their veins. AJ was practically bouncing up and down, and Cal was eating up the elated expression written all over her face. It was a new sensation for him, this feeling of pure love. Sure the boys were his life, but it was nice to have something for him for once. Just his.

“Born ready, Hood.” AJ was in trouble. Everything with this fucking mission had gone so wrong, so so fast. Mainly because she had fallen for Calum fucking Hood so hard so fast. She had, like an idiot, fallen in love with her brother’s worst rival. Damn.

So Calum clicked the button and watched as AJ lit up. She gasped loudly and ran over to the car, actually hugging it. Cal couldn’t blame her though, the car was a beauty. Jet black with a multi finish chrome. An all leather interior and completely black as well. The team had even installed blue led lights in the wheel houses.

“Let’s take her out for a spin, eh?” Cal was more than ready to get behind the wheel, really see how fast she could go. But before he could react, AJ snathed the keys out of his hand and jumped into the driver's seat, forgoing the door altogether. Cal rolled his lips into his mouth, but he was smiling so hard. AJ drove like someone was after her, taking every turn or corner as a drift, screeching to a stop at every light. They continued like that for a while, retreating further and further out of town. Eventually they pulled up at a spotlight right next to a Ferrari of some sorts.

“Nice car.” AJ called out to the man across the lanes of traffic. “What’s the retail on one of those?”

“More than you can afford, sweetheart.” Stuck up bigot.

“Smoke him.” Cal muttered under his breath to AJ, ready to make this idiot with a stick up his ass eat their dust. Which is exactly what happened. As soon as the light turned green, AJ floored it. There were a few cars in front of her, but AJ had no restraints keeping her from swerving into the oncoming traffic lanes. They smoke that asshole by miles, watching him fade to a mere speck in their rearview mirrors. It was something else, honestly. Eventually they pulled into a small but packed seafood restaurant. The two of them got a table on the back patio. They had an amazing view of the ocean and could feel the cool sea breeze hitting them every so often.

“This is dumb.” AJ just blurted it out, completely unprovoked. Cal looked up in surprise, a shrimp tail hanging out from between his lips.

“What?” Cal finished chewing and swallowing before asking his question. What did she mean, this is dumb? Being with him? Racing? He hoped not.

“Just, this!” AJ knew she wasn’t articulating what she really wanted to say, but it was hard to put her pent up feelings into words.

“Keep talking like that, and you’re gonna lose your meal ticket?” Cal knew he was just pretending to brush it off, but if AJ actually meant that she thought being with him was dumb, he was going to break.

“First, I don’t need you to pay for me. Second, I just need you to stop lying to me. I want in. On whatever you’re running, I want in.” AJ relaxed against the booth seat she was sitting in, almost breathless. It felt weird, knowing she was getting this info only to feed it back to her brother. Only to use it against him.

“I’ll tell you what. We’ll see how you do at the desert races this weekend, then we’ll talk.

Cal slipped her a piece of paper out of his shirt pocket, sliding it across the table to her. Her fingers brushed his as she picked it up and looked at the address, her touch sending tingles down his spine. Tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough.

…

Tomorrow came too soon. Today was the day when she would know. If it was Hood and his gang, then her source of happiness for the past few days would al disappear. She had a strong sense of loyalty, but and issue presented itself with that. Should she be loyal to Tran, her brother, or Cal, her love? It was a difficult decision, but she knew she would face a great loss either way. She had to focus up, get her head in the game. This was a problem for later. Right now, there was two grand on the line and her reputation. She didn’t come to lose. And the idiot she was up against? A fucking ameatuer. Used his Nos within the first twenty seconds. AJ knew she had it won. She even smiled sweetly and waved as the idiot she was racing at her dust.

It was as she was finishing up her race that Tran pulled her aside to talk, still on a high from the win.

“Any new intel?” Johnny kept his grip tight on her arm, too tight for her comfort.

“No. I find out today.” AJ forcibly pulled her arm out of his vice grip. When she saw the bruises already forming on her arm, it was then she knew. Tran had never actually seen her as a sister. Merely an opportunity. A broken little girl who could be manipulated for his needs. All the times he had sacrificed her for the profit, all the bruises and broken bones she had endured. Just a means of infiltrating other gang. She was sick of being lied to, sick of being used. So she made up her mind. Her loyalty lied with Cal. Cal alone. She turned and stalked away from Johnny with no other word, merely retreating to the trailer that Cal had brought out from the group. The sun had already set, signaling the end of the races, so she was hoping to catch him. They had quite a bit to discuss. While she was sick of people lying to her, she was also sick of lying to the people she cared about. She stepped into the trailer, but before she could call out his name, she heard arguing outside the trailer. Loudly. She approached the window, staying behind the curtain, but still able to hear every word.

“You shouldn’t do this Cal. It’s not safe anymore.” Lindy was yelling at Cal, and she was starting to cause a scene. She was even tearing up a little.

“This is the last one. Chill out. We’ll be back soon.” Cal didn’t make any move to comfort her, instead just turning and walking away.

This was it. AJ could feel it, from the context to the raw tension in the air. However, contrary to what she had told Cal yesterday, she didn’t want in. She wanted them to stop. After growing closer to them, she feared for their safety more than anything. AJ had pulled off a few stunts like this with Johnny, so she knew first hand how dangerous they truly were. Now that the truckers knew they were coming, she was sure they would be arming themselves against the gang. She immediately ran out of the trailer and sprinted over to Lindy.

“Where are they going?” She grabbed Lindy by the shoulders and spun her around, looking directly into her eyes. It was clear from her conversation with Cal that Lindy was the only other person who understood the gravity of the situation.

“Get off of me, Turell. Or, should I say, Tran?” Lindy looked at AJ with fire in her eyes. AJ started chewing on her bottom lip. Shit. This isn’t what she needed right now, especially if she wanted to save the boys she had so come to love.

“Listen. It’s not what it seems. I get that you hate me, and that you don’t trust me, but right now, I’m your only shot at saving those boys. And if you love them as much as I do, then you’ll get in the car with me.” AJ removed her hands from Lindy’s shoulders, completely grave. There was too much at stake for games or jealousy. Lindy seemed to understand that, though, Together, she and AJ ran to the grand sport. They climbed in, and AJ had the pedal almost through the baseboard of the car before she was even full seated. Lindy gave her some quick directions to a shipment about forty minutes from their location, and all AJ could do was speed in that direction with her knuckles white on the steering wheel. She just hoped she got there in time.

…

This was the third truck that they had raided, and so far, Cal was hoping that it would go like the first two. But, as he learned the hard way, hopes didn’t get people very far in life. Everything had gone wrong as soon as Luke had made the jump from Cal’s car to the grill plate of the target truck. It was Ashton who had first noticed the gun, radioing it over to the others so they could abort. Sadly, it was too late to warn Luke so the blond had made the jump anyways. Cal watched as Luke realized what the driver was holding, watched as he panicked and tried to hide to avoid the spray of bullets from the buck shot. Cal muttered out a string of curse words, knowing he was powerless to stop this mess from happening. Luke was flopping around trying to find a foothold, spiraling around to the passengers side of the door.

That would have been fine if not for the fact that the wire he had used as a grounding system got tangled around his arm, bloodying it. Cal and Ash pulled onto either side of the truck and Michael took point, each of them shouting into the radio, desperately searching for a way to rescue their friend. It was then Cal noticed the jet black grand sport approaching behind them at a high rate of speed. He was so busy focusing on AJ and Lindy approaching in the rearview mirror that he failed to notice the 18-wheeler slamming into his side before it was too late. Cal felt the collision in his bones, rolling the car three times into the desert brush and ditch. His ears were ringing and everything was hurting, but he still remained focused on Luke. He heard a faint crackling diluted by the ringing in his ears, heard Ash’s voice broadcast over the radio that he was turning back for Cal. Cal wanted to respond, tell him to remain focused on Luke, but for some reason he couldn’t move his arms. He was tired, though. So tired. It was right as Ash was pulling him out of the wreckage that Cal let himself slip into the darkness.

…

This was bad. This was so, so bad. Lindy and AJ pulled up along the truck just in time to see one of the cars get smashed by it and go rolling into the ditch. The next thing they saw was Luke’s lifeless body swinging from the passenger’s side door. They both gasped and Lindy burst into tears, but AJ’s grip on the wheel just tightened. She was more determined than ever to save her friends. AJ pulled up as close as she could she could to Luke, which was sort of difficult considering the fact that the truck was swerving all over the road.

“Lindy, take the wheel!” That was all the warning that AJ gave Lindy before standing. Lindy, despite protesting, promptly slid over, taking the wheel and keeping pressure on the pedal.

AJ watched for a second to ensure her timing was just right before making the jump. It sort of felt like she was moving in slow motion while she was in the air. So much could go wrong so fast, and yet she would do nothing different even if he had the chance. AJ slammed into the passenger side door, scrambling for a foothold. This was not how she was going to die. After she felt as stable as possible while hanging onto the door of an 18-wheeler going 70 down the highway, she got to work on helping Luke.

“Luke. Hey, bud listen you gotta focus up for a second.” AJ was worried. The wire had cut him pretty deep in some places, and everything was slick with copious amounts of blood. “Luke. Put your arm around me, okay?”

Luke did as he was told despite only being half conscious. Lindy seemed to understand what was going on because she pulled that car as close as she could get it. AJ knew a chance when she saw it, so she took it quickly and without hesitation. She pushed both Luke and herself off of the turck and into the car, trying to use what little momentum she had. They made it back safely into AJ’s car, and Lindy slammed on the brakes, peeling back to check on Cal. Michael had somehow seen the entire thing, so he too circled back. As soon as they got to the wreckage, AJ knew it was bad. She had managed to fasten a makeshift tourniquet for Luke, but she knew that if they didn’t get him medical attention soon, things would not end well for curly haired angel.

“Listen. Get Michael and Ashton and get Luke to a hospital. Now. I’ll get Cal.” Lindy still seemed wary of her, but AJ knew that Lindy trusted her. After seeing her jump to and from a moving vehicle for someone AJ had known mere weeks, Lindy had to trust her. AJ watched as the second girl sprinted off and got Ash and Michael. They were off in Michael’s car before AJ had even picked her way down to the wreckage. When she did, she breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe he was bloodied and bruised, but Cal was alive. That was all she needed. Him being conscious was just a bonus.

“Hey, Hood.” AJ was gravely worried, but she was also grinning from ear to ear. Cal was alive. He was okay.

“Hey yourself, Turell. You gonna get me out of here or what?” Cal grunted, obviously in pain, but there were underlying tones of softness in his voice. A certain softness that was reserved only for her. It took them a few minutes, but eventually AJ got Calum out of the trashed car and into her own. He was bleeding in various spots and his left arm was clutching his right shoulder, but he was okay. He had assured AJ of that numerous times. Instead of going to the hospital like AJ wanted and Cal absolutely did not, AJ drove them swiftly back the her apartment. Johnny didn’t know about and it had its own private garage, so they were safe there. Cal was in a lot of pain even though he refused to admit it, so much so that AJ was pretty much carrying him upstairs to her apartment. As soon as she could, AJ lowered Calum onto the bed, as gently as she could of course, and ran to the bathroom to get the first aid kit she kept there. She went back to the bed only to find Cal in the exact same position that she had left him in. AJ started to take his jacket and shirt off, with minimal assistance from Calum himself.

“Slow down there girlie. At least let me take you on a date first.” Cal was starting to slur his words a little, but AJ knew it was because of the deliria from the pain.

She worked a little faster, climbing on the bed and straddling his hips so she could see what she was doing better. The work was meticulous, pulling tiny beads of glass from under his skin, stitching the larger gashes, and cleaning and bandaging all of them thoroughly. Cal just grunted here and there, not fully aware of what was happening. AJ thought it was probably better that way. She didn’t quite know what to do with his shoulder, though. From the way it was hanging, it was probably dislocated. Johnny had done that once and it had popped back in naturally over the span of about a week. AJ just decided to put it in a sling, ice it, and hope for the best. By the time she was finished, Cal had long since faded off and the clock was approaching 4am. Her concentration had kept her from being too tired, but now that it was broken her vision was starting to blur. She decided to take five on the bed to rest a little before packing it up and moving to the couch. Just five minutes.

…

taglist: @marshmallowtraver @daniellesimagines @lmao5sosimagines @shawnhockey5s0s

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vagrantblvrd · 4 years

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I'm a slut for anything Destiny right now, so uhhhhh maybe something involving that? (On another note, boo for pushing back BL to November, yay for having more time to work on it)

Lol, same, friend! XD

So, like. Much as I love other Destiny AUs I’ve blathered on about before, what do you say about a Battle Buddies in the Destiny universe?

Like, say.

These two idiots working for Clovis Bray during the Golden Age, right? Troubleshooters or just a pair of mercenaries that somehow ended up on the Clovis Bray payroll.

Or maybe they start off as regular security operatives who earn a reputation for being particularly clever and resourceful. Ruthless, some might say, in protecting Clovis Bray’s interests.

They catch the eye of some higher up, get reassigned to a special division in security which happen to be troubleshooters and the like?

Operatives given more leeway/authority than the usual Clovis Bray security operative and it’s actually good for a while, right?

Certainly good enough from them to to from coworkers to that guy they see almost every day and have a few things in common with to actual friends. And that, okay, in the world of fanfic is a slippery slope to Mutual Pining.

And such tropes as being snowed in at a tiny, wonderfully cozy cabin once they get a fired started and realize sharing body heat is the only solution to not freezing to death anyway?

Also sharing a bed while on a trip somewhere and a mixup/convenient other reason there would only be a room with a single bed available for them.

Not to mention the quiet revelation that the other one knows exactly how they take their coffee (whatever diet soda equivalent exists in the universe at that time for Ryan), or what their favorite food is (and second, third and so on in case substitution is necessary). Know what their favorite color is and cats vs dogs.

(A hotly debated topic between them, one that Jeremy declares could be a friendship killer because dogs, Ryan, really? With their borking and happy little faces and utter joy at seeing their human?

Pls.

Meanwhile, Ryan with this little smirk to his voice as he needles Jeremy over the little herd of stray cats he swears aren’t actually his and yet are all fixed and chipped and yowl their little heads off the moment they catch wind/sight of Jeremy and anyway, dogs are clearly better because Ryan says so, therefore it’s true, Jeremy.

(Neither of them realize if they were animals - omg, were-creatures in Destiny universe???? :O - Jeremy is obvs a bork-bork doggo and Ryan a snooty mcsnoot (sekritly soft touch because srsly) kitten-cat and just, tangent I know, but omg.)

Also, though?

Also.

It means all these little things that add up to oh, no, I’m absolutely fucked over this asshole/idiot, because they are and now that they know they can’t stop seeing it, you know?

Jeremy’s :D when he sees Ryan at work and Ryan’s own >:D when he sees Jeremy because up to no good, the both of them? And smaller, quieter things they didn’t really think about and oh man, what now???

But then, also!

The two of them with their special division in Clovis Bray’s security branch...deal...thing where they ends up working with the shadier side of things?

Mostly play security on off-world projects or labs that pop up when new discoveries are made and said discovery can’t be moved/hasn’t been moved to a more secure facility and such.

Security there just as much to protect the discovery/artifact/device than keep the scientists/staff/executives visiting the site safe and so on. (Occasional Adventures because business rivals and shady practices and Drama.)

It’s all good for a while, lets them stew in their Mutual Pining phase and just as they’re about to maybe, maaaaybe do something about it Trouble!!1! happens.

Both of them are at the “I need to talk to you about this...thing,” stage of things and thinking oh, no, he knows I have the FEELINGS for him and the :O!!1! of what could mean for their ~friendship and so on?

But then Ryan gets called to the Clovis Bray facility on Mars in Meridian Bay while Jeremy stays behind, which isn’t unheard of for them?

But it’s rare when the company separates them. know they’re far more effective as a team and so on, but the call comes from the top and they can’t just say no, so Ryan goes.

Has a Bad Feeling and Jeremy knows him well enough to pick up on it, but pretends he doesn’t, that everything’s fine even though there’s been more chatter on restricted frequencies - Clovis Bray and otherwise - for a few days now, something big going down that’s effecting everyone.

This growing concern/panic leaders are trying to keep under wraps while they figure out how to handle it and so on.

And, look, they’ve been in the business long enough to know to trust Bad Feelings and suchlike? But Jeremy’s all :D because Ryan’s so worked up and he’s trying to reassure him they’ll be fine, you know? Damn good at their jobs and nothing’s managed to kill them yet.

(Yet being the keyword there, Jeremy, as Ryan keeps telling him when Jeremy’s a few drinks in on a slow night and they’re just enjoying one another’s company and sharing stories and yeah.)

Anyway.

Ryan heads to Mars and Jeremy sticks behind and somewhere in between that the Collapse happens, because of course it does.

Just a big ol’ kaboom-level disaster in which they both end up super, duper dead?

But then they get better.

Kind of?

Because, look.

Ryan gets all kinds of fucked up during the kaboom-level disaster and he’s in a Clovis Bray facility and there’s the whole...Exo thing, right?

Hand-wavy shenanigans all over the place in which he’s Exo-fied just before everything goes to hell (really goes to hell) and he comes online or whatever they call it just in time to die again.

(Doesn’t remember the first one, because fleshy human body all fucked up and coding on the table and uh, wow, yes. Also Ryan and his Thing for androids in Sky Factory 4 and also just robots and the like in general, so yeah?)

Anyway.

Ryan dies (again) during the collapse in a shiny Exo body and no time at all to address that, which.

Perfect?

Perfect.

Years go by as the sands of Mars start to bury human cities and whatnot, and along comes a Ghost.

Ryan’s Ghost, to be matter of fact.

Little bastard’s been looking for its Guardian for a long, long time by the time it gets to Mars, seen a lot.

And for whatever reason when it’s poking about this half-buried Clovis Bray facility and stumbles on this shiny new (not so much) Exo decides ah, yes, this one is the one I’ve been looking for all this time.

Ryan gets resurrected on Mars, wakes up choking on dust and sand (or maybe it’s just his mind telling him that’s what’s happening, because Exo? who knows) and this goddamn floating ball of metal and light and sass in front of him.

The Clovis Bray facility is a disaster and the Cabal haven’t found it yet (yet) but they’re going to any day and anyway, anyway, not a good idea to stick around a dead place like that.

His Ghost brought him back a few years after the Collapse, Dark Ages days still, before things like Iron Lords or fancy classes like Titans or Warlocks or Hunters.

Is something of a cross between a Titan and a Warlock in temperament and abilities and understandably a little leery of his little Ghost buddy? Like what even is it/he?

But also, also?

Ryan remembers, okay.

For whatever reasons, he remembers.

Wakes up in a Clovis Bray facility - was there meeting with some higher-ups about concerns they had about some incoming trouble and reluctant to pull both of them from their assignment.

Figured Ryan could speak for them both, and then kaboom, the Collapse and his Exo-fication which he really, really should not remember? But hard to deny the proof and such, and maybe his Ghost is able to pull some information from the computers around them

(And the what the actual fuck and I did not agree to that when I signed my contract and what the fucking fuck and so on of dealing with that on top of everything else and it’s just. It’s a lot to process.)

He remembers his previous life, although there are some gaps and the whatnot - maybe that’s what happens when you die and some sassy floating orb resurrects you, Ryan doesn’t have a frame of reference for these things okay - and from what his Ghost is saying people shouldn’t do that?

Especially with the Exo-fication process and anyway, anyway, yes.

So he keeps quiet about it for the moment, all this oh shit, and fuck, Jeremy and that in the back of his mind and initial wariness of his Ghost and what that’s all about.

Finds a way to get them back to wherever he and Jeremy were assigned - grab a jumpship from the Clovis Bray facility and leave Mars and it’s dead cities behind headed towards Earth because where else would they go?

But also maybe there are others like Ryan and while they’re out here might as well check to see if there are? Bring any survivors and such back with them if they can.

All they find are cities in ruin and the dead, though.

Worse, places where the dead should be, but aren’t.

Because spooky.

But also Bad Things, not all of which are due to the other races the Darkness introduced to humanity, because you know, humanity at its worst and so on.

Still, it gives Ryan the chance to learn about his new body, and his Light-given abilities, to trust them, and weirdly enough bond with his Ghost.

Gives the poor thing a name like Reggie or some other terrible thing that has it sighing and all that at him as humans are just super weird about stuff like that?

But at the same time it’s a name, something more than just Ghost. Which. Not an insult? But still, a name.

When they get to where Ryan and Jeremy were stationed he’s not really expecting to find Jeremy after everything else they’ve seen along the way. Odds stacked against them from the start and all that, and he’s not surprised to find the facility torn open and broken down.

Finds bodies here and there, doesn’t want to look closer but he can’t not at the same time.

Recognizes a few of them, scientists and staff and some security operatives he and Jeremy worked with.

Reggie clearly knows Ryan’s lying about not remembering anything, but chooses not to call him on it at the time.

Not when there’s this...rawness to him as he explores the place he lived and worked in who knows how many years go. Finds the bodies and other remnants of a life (long past, ended violently in the Collapse along with those of everyone else there.

Listens to messages people left before, during, and after the Collapse.

Usual day-to-day things, work logs or personal journals that tick over into calls to supervisors over unusual readings and the like? And then towards the end and staticky and all that, warnings to whoever stumbles across the facility.

Breached containment and toxic chemical ruptures and all that that had to be locked down.

(The handful of people on the other side of it, either too slow or too goddamned brave, sacrificing themselves for the others even though they knew it wouldn’t matter much in the end, and doing it anyway)

Sightings of unknown creatures - beings? Roaming the area outside the facility while its security measures were still active, what remaining security operatives going to confront them and not returning, or dragging themselves back to safety just to die with some cryptic words on what they’d seen out there.

Final words of survivors doomed to die either by whatever was on the other side of the fences and security measures once they inevitably failed or some other cause. (Exposure to toxins/radiation or other fun things. Starvation, etc. No need to worry about old age or natural causes because yeah no, not in the cards for them.)

That cheerful kind of stuff, you know?

Ryan and his Ghost digging into the computers they could and watching footage, watching people he knew a lifetime ago dying.

Watching Jeremy taking charge of things, having to order people to their deaths in the days after the Collapse whether it be to containment breaches or enemies at their gates and so on.

A few logs and personal videos Jeremy left, ones that Ryan makes copies of for himself - Reggie makes copies of everything they find, but Jeremy’s are just for Ryan, you know?

All of what they find may be useful one day, important, but Jeremy’s are just for Ryan. (Reggie safeguards those like you wouldn’t believe because they’re obviously important to Ryan.)

One of Jeremy’s videos are of him in the cramped quarters he and Ryan had to share, half a wall missing and all that because of course.

More rubble than room at that point, and yet it’s where he decided to record that video message.

All quiet and sad and hopeless because no rescue is coming for them, and look, okay, look.

He knows Ryan has to be dead by that point, otherwise his Battle Buddy would have come for him and the others, Clovis Bray be damned.

And Jeremy’s not quite looking at the camera as he just.

Confesses?

Tells Ryan - this one video is for Ryan even though Jeremy’s certain he’d never see it now, but he can’t not and he’ll probably be dead before long anyway, so fuck it, right?

So Jeremy tells Ryan all about the Mutual Pining he was doing leading up to the Collapse, right? All the reasons he fell head over heels for his idiot Battle Buddy and fear of fucking things up between them not knowing if Ryan felt the same and just.

A lot of FEELS going on there?

And then he talks about the Bad Feeling of Ryan’s and the call for him to go to Mars while Jeremy stayed behind.

Tells him he knew something was off, wrong, that something big was coming and goddamn does he hate being right about that kind of thing?

And then, okay.

There’s this tired little laugh, and Jeremy looking right into the camera.

Looks tired, worn down. Like he hasn’t slept in days (hadn’t, most likely) and lost too much weight and right on the edge of breaking.

Tells Ryan with this tired little laugh and tired little smile that he loves him, and he’s sorry he wasn’t brave enough to tell him when he had the chance and all these other heartbreaking things before ending the video.

(Delicious Angst.)

Ryan can’t find any other videos or anything from Jeremy after that, but there are references to the last of the security operatives patrolling the facility and running into opposition. Mentions of them not returning, of the other survivors being on their own and -

Ryan and Reggie go looking, because of course they do.

Find bodies, human and otherwise, but there’s a goddamn hole blown into the side of the facility. Fucking crater that opens up into an underground cavern and no safe way down.

Which, fine.

Ryan jumps, and Reggie brings him back.

Again and again and again until they reach the bottom, and then it’s this endless network or caves and tunnels and they could spend a lifetime looking, but enemies - Fallen? - and too many for one lone Light-bearer and their Ghost and he hates it, hates it, but they can’t stay.

Get back to Earth and kick around there for some time, all the while Ryan working on a way to get back to the facility to find Jeremy and lay him to rest or whatever’s going on in his head.

Runs across this shady bastard who (of course) turns out to be the Drifter and they become...not friends so much as acquaintances and all that? Don’t really trust one another, but they’re not enemies either.

The Iron Lords happen, Ryan and Reggie keeping an eye on things because you never know, and then the thing with SIVA happens and everything after that.

Hop around the system (venture a little beyond it for a time before coming back) and are like.

Bemused at these Guardians they find running around?

Like.

Yeah, okay, interesting, but he and Reggie were there for the Iron Lords and surely it’s only a matter of time until the Guardians go the same way?

But...they don’t?

They even build themselves this City under the Traveler and seem to thrive. Guard (heh,) the remnants of humanity that take shelter in the Traveler’s presence and all that.

Watches them branch out, sees the formation of the Vanguard and the Consensus and all that.

And they don’t go unnoticed either, this weird Light-bearer Exo and his Ghost that have been around for a long, long time.

Are considered allies to the Vanguard and Tower and all that? But not to be trusted at the same time.

Not enemies, just.

Need to be taken with a grain of salt, and also for the love of all that’s holy, do not let them around baby Guardians because they’re kind of terrible?

But yes.

Ryan’s around for all the shenanigans in the first Destiny, but doesn’t get involved himself because he’s no Guardian, you see.

Does, however, do things like message the Vanguard when there’s unusual activity among the Fallen or whichever race is hellbent on wiping humanity out that time.

Tips off Ikora’s hidden that something’s going on in the Plaguelands when the Fallen get into SIVA and so on, checks in on Lord Saladin to see how he’s doing, that kind of thing.

And then the Cabal come to Earth and Ryan’s at the edge of the system at the time, but he definitely feels it when the Cabal manage to lock away the Traveler’s Light.

He and Reggie make their way back to Earth because what the hell is going on?

And they get there just in time for some asshole to kick Ghaul’s ass and the Traveler awakening and all that?

And it’s like, well, shit, because things are going to be in disarray for a while, aren’t they?

Usually that means the Vanguard reaching out to him and those like him to help where Guardians can’t.

Stealth and shady shit and other things the Vanguard seems to turn their noses up at because not exactly Noble, the things people like Ryan get up to, but still needed.

Anyway, off he goes, coordinating with Ikora’s Hidden and all that and he’s all over the place for a while.

Goes back to the Tower and happens to catch a glimpse of someone in armor and is like !!!

It’s the Tower, and all the Guardians wandering around in armor is far from unusual?

BUT.

This asshole is sporting some hideous shader that somehow manages to combine purple and orange with yellow trim and it’s this whiplash moment of !!! for Ryan because!

Or fucking course Jeremy and his bullshit color scheme back when they were working for Clovis Bray, you know?

Shit-eating grin at Ryan’s :O face the first time he realized what a monstrous human being Jeremy was and delighting in it every moment afterwards.

And Ryan, right. Far from an expert on all the shaders out there, but he’s pretty sure Eva would never dare create such a thing as it would be akin to a crime against humanity, and yet.

Ryan sneaks about following the Guardian - a goddamned Titan because of course it is - and maybe gets a little sloppy about it.

Because FEELS and also being a little out of his mind over the coincidence?

Anyway, anyway, he ends up getting cornered in a little alley somewhere down in The City. No one else around for blocks and an understandably peeved Guardian facing him down.

“Hey, pal,” he hears, seemingly friendly enough but there’s an edge to the words all the same. “There a reason you’ve been following me for the last few hours?”

The Guardian’s got their helmet on, because of course, but there’s -

Ryan knows that voice.

(Of fucking course he does.)

Stares and stares and stares because oh, okay, this has to be it, you know? He’s been alive for a few hundred years by this point, and sooner or later he’d lose it, because of course he would, right?

Exo-fied without consent and tossed into the life of a Light-bearer - again, without consent although he’s more okay with Reggie’s actions than the scientists at Clovis Bray who Exo-fied him - and made sense he’d go mad at some point.

Because no way in hell is that Jeremy he’s looking at. No damned way.

AND YET.

It totally is Jeremy, although he goes by Rimmy Tim now (lololol, I’m so, so sorry) and doesn’t remember his previous life at all and oh, God his poor Ghost is sporting a shell in the same hideous purple/orange shader and why did it have to be this way?

But also seriously, Ryan being blue screen of death over the whole Jeremy is a goddamned Guardian now???

Apparently resurrected following the Red War and new to the whole Guardian deal.

Ryan tries to stay away because he’s got all these issues to sort out and doesn’t want to scare Jeremy away/make him hate him/who even knows what he’s thinking at that point?

But it doesn’t stick because Jeremy’s alive.

Doesn’t know Ryan or the fact they were this close to figuring their shit out before the world ended around them and things got seriously fucked up.

Thinks Ryan’s some weird shady dude along the lines of the Drifter and all that? Which, to be fair, he is?

BUT.

Zavala and Ikora trust him, and Cayde did too.

Ryan keeps tabs on Jeremy the whole time because like hell is he not going to do that?

But he tries his best to keep his distance for Jeremy’s sake and all?

And then there’s a Situation the Vanguard need him to look into, and would he like help with this one?

And Ryan, okay.

Ryan.

Does his damndest to be good about this, not drag Jeremy into things, but Zavala’s a clever bastard.

Has noticed Ryan’s obvious - to Zavala and Ikora, and even Cayde’s amusement/understanding before he died - interest in Jeremy.

And weirdly, conveniently, Jeremy knocks on the door to Zavala’s office while Ryan’s in there talking to him about this Situation.

“Uh, am I interrupting?”

And Zavala gives Ryan this little smirk.

“Rimmy Tim is a promising young Titan,” he says. “Clever. Resourceful. I think he would prove to be a great asset in this endeavor.”

And Jeremy, okay.

Keen on helping the Vanguard with things like this Situation, and he’ll admit to being curious about weird, shady Ryan and how he fits into things, and anyway.

Ryan doesn’t have much choice in the matter about it all, and before you know it the two of them are out investigating weird shit together.

Ryan barely keeping his shit together the whole time because Jeremy is so fucking Jeremy even though he doesn’t remember anything about his previous life.

Reggie is like, super concerned and doesn’t sass Ryan more than a couple of times a day due to said concern.

Jeremy’s Ghost is like, dude, what the hell? While Reggie is ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ because hahaha, Light-bearers are just weird as hell, right?

Their investigations take them back to Mars and the same Clovis Bray facility where Ryan was Exo-fied and it’s.

Jeremy doesn’t know what’s up with Ryan and Reggie, but once Ryan quietly mentions that oh, hey, yeah. This is where they turned me into this *gestures at himself with this weird hollow/bitter laugh because yes* and then he died, and also Reggie found him years later and so on?

And Jeremy’s like shit, dude, and also, oh, okay thinking that’s why they’re being super weird?

But then they find records and some video of human!Ryan way back before and Jeremy’s fucking riveted, okay.

Human!Ryan talking to one of his bosses about an assignment they’re going to send these Battle Buddies off on - Jeremy looking over at Ryan when he flinches or something along those lines and thinks, oh, man, poor guy, because apparently Ryan had a partner way back when?

Someone the Clovis Bray bigwig talks about with this amused/fond look on their face like the two of them were inseparable and all that? Force to be reckoned with and all that.

And!

Of course that’s when the bigwig’s office door opens to let the other half of the Battle Buddies in.

“What the fuck?”

Because, hey, wow, would you look at that? That’s fucking Jeremy sauntering on in with a little grin on his face and all that, tossing human!Ryan a look before giving the Clovis Bray bigwig a nod and no, seriously, what the fuck.

This whole Thing where Ryan stiffly (because dealing with all these EMOTIONS about Jeremy and terrified he’d - rightly so - want nothing to do with Ryan because of the everything) tells him that yeah, so.

They totally knew one another way back when? Worked together and so on and all this and just.

Yeah.

Jeremy’s Ghost manages to salvage more videos of the two of them - sparring in Clovis Bray gym facilities and the whatnot and training/demonstrating/whatever for security operatives?

Ryan leaves him to it while he and Reggie go poking about the rest of the place pretty much expecting Jeremy to tell them he wants nothing to do with them once they’re done with whatever the Vanguard has them doing?

But no, okay, no.

First of all, Jeremy’s super weirded out, but he’s not mad? OR he doesn’t think he is???

It’s complicated.

What he does know is that he and his Ghost like Ryan and Reggie, are starting to think of them as friends, even.

And then, okay, and then?

There’s also the fact that with a different perspective Jeremy can totally fucking see how fucking head over heels he and Ryan were for one another?

The way they look at one another, okay, that alone.

Can’t tell if they were an official? Thing and it feels cruel to ask Ryan, considering Jeremy doesn’t remember him? So he doesn’t.

Just.

Decides he’d like to get to know Ryan now, see what happens and all that?

Ryan’s like ??? because he was not expecting that? Is a little reluctant because what if it’s a mistake? He still loves the shit out of Jeremy, pre-Collapse and now, but maybe that’s not what’s best for Jeremy?

Tries to tell him that, but Jeremy’s not having it.

Like, will honestly leave Ryan alone if he genuinely wants him to considering their past and the emotional roller coaster Ryan’s been on since pretty much forever?

But if it’s all the same to Ryan Jeremy would like to keep working with him?

And they do, because Ryan thinks he’s too much a selfish bastard to tell Jeremy no, and Jeremy kind of feels the same?

They deal with the Situation together (Battle Buddies, fuck yeah) and when they report back to Zavala he’s all HMM at them, but doesn’t comment on things and it just.

Becomes this understood Thing that Ryan and Jeremy are a team now, going all over the place to deal with things Ikora’s Hidden sniff out or some “friend” of Ryan’s want them to look into.

Ryan quietly Suffering because Jeremy’s still so very Jeremy and yet a completely different person. Jeremy falling for Ryan because of course he does, and Ryan keenly aware of it at some point.

(Stopped lying to himself about things like that a long time ago, or maybe he’s too tired to lie to himself about them now, who knows.)

Looks at Jeremy one night, the two of them camped out in a shell of a building and just.

Sighs.

Takes out the batch of recordings and videos Jeremy left behind at the end and gives them to Jeremy because...he doesn’t know why, really.

Just thinks it’s important he sees them for himself before he says something he might regret. (Does something he might regret, idk.)

And then off Ryan goes to keep watch or patrol the area or whatever and conveniently not be there while Jeremy watches his past self confessing his love to Ryan like that was a mistake he never got to make in person or something?

It makes no goddamned sense, and Jeremy’s a bit of an emotional mess by the end of it because jfc, he past him was a complete idiot, and both Ryans are too?

Past Ryan just for being a dense idiot the same as past Jeremy, present Ryan because he’s been carrying those recordings along with him for ages, and the whole Guilt about not finding Jeremy’s body to lay him to rest way back when.

The Guilt about knowing who Jeremy was when he met him again and not telling him (that makes Jeremy a little angry because dude, seriously?), and yet again more Guilt for not telling him about the Mutual Pining?

And just.

He yells at Ryan a hell of a lot when he tracks him down, finds him on a rooftop staring up at the stars while Reggie watches over him.

Realizes Ryan’s looking towards the sector of space where he and Ryan were stationed when the Collapse happened, that the idiot probably made a habit of doing so after Jeremy died because Delicious Angst?

He yells, but there’s no real heat to it because Jeremy’s a wreck, and also he gets it?

Doesn’t know Ryan super well, just yet, but enough to see why he’d do/think some of the things he has.

Feels...not guilty, exactly, but something in that he doesn’t remember Ryan or the lives they had before all...this, but.

They’ve got a second chance, and maybe, maybe they could do something with it?

Not saying they have to, necessarily, but.

Uh.

They do make a good team, and all that, and -

Ryan’s just looking at Jeremy like he doesn’t know what to say (it’s true) and kind of like he thinks he may be dreaming this (he’s not) and Jeremy’s afraid he’s saying all the wrong things?

But then.

It’s like

That could be a thing they could do, become Battle Buddies 2.0 and let Zavala know he only has himself to blame for it, so of course they do, you know?

Go off and Adventure about, causing Zavala headache after headache and getting these little smiles out of Ikora and such.

And one day maybe they get their shit together and finally freaking do something about all the FEELINGS the have for one another.

Get it right this time, with the love confessions and smooches - or like, whatever it is Exos do in that regard?

But yes.

Also they run into the rest of the AH bunch at some point, a few of which are some of Ryan’s shady friends, because of course they are. >:D

(ALSO, omg, yessss? I was like aw, man, not again Bungie :((((((((((((((( even though I totally understand the reasons for the delay? Like. I want the shinies of new content and omg, EXO STRANGER :DDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD right now? But also omg, yes Bunige, please take the time you need. XD)

#ragehappy #jeremwood #battle buddies #battle buddies destiny au #prompt fills #demoncowedgar #¯\_(ツ)_/¯#(shit #sorry about the posting fail everyone!) also #long post

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talix18 · 5 years

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November 2

I just want a word processing program. I'm not trying to be difficult. A word processing program that will estimate for me how many words I've written. Which requires a computer Operating System to run said program, preferably with an Internet connection in case there are updates to said program. The computer on which I'm typing this is an unknown number of years old. I know I got it when my ex lived with me, and he's been dead for several years.

That's a hazard of loving people in recovery, especially from drug addiction as opposed to alcoholism. The drugs out there are not those of your elders and they are nowhere near as forgiving of overdoses. My ex became my ex when he relapsed. A couple of years later he got some fentanyl with his heroin and it killed him. Drugs are bad, mmkay?

Anyway, the computer. I am...working with an OS that's 10 years old and have 6 gigs of RAM. (That's before I stuck my 2 gig thumb drive in to use as extended memory.) I'm clearly fighting hard for something to write about here. I'd rather get this done early in the day so I don't have to dread it, but writing about myself is almost as tedious as being myself.

Today is a good day, so far. I made it out the door to yoga and got my eyebrows done on the way home. Eyebrow waxing is my only consistent beauty practice. I'd like to keep up with my hair and not just put it up wet every day but let's face it – I'm stingy with my time and money and can't commit to something eight weeks from now. My hair is going gray and makes me look my actual age, which I alternately don't care about and am horrified by. Now I have extra guilt doing home color – my adopted niece graduated from Paul Mitchell hair school and would happily accept my money for getting to practice on my head, but she's located just far enough away to be inconvenient.

Plus getting out of bed is hard enough. I'll gladly take 15 extra minutes to check the Internet that will still be there when I get to work over putting on make-up and drying my hair. Is this about depression, laziness, or feminist resistance to society's expectations? I'd like to have fun with my appearance and my wardrobe but dammit – do I have to start so bless-ed early in the morning?

(This whole “early in the morning thing” is BS, by the way. I learned how quickly I can get myself showered, dressed, and out the door at my most depressed and now resist any attempt to plan further in advance.) Yes, I want to look nice in pictures but I don't want to do the work necessary to achieve that.

This is a theme in my life – there's a lot of things I want to do and be without taking any of the steps that might lead me in the correct direction. Sometimes it's a question of not knowing what those steps might be. Recovery has blessed me with the crazy notion of finding someone who has (or knows how to do) something you want (to know how to do) and ask them how they did it. I'm not sure if this is as mind-blowing to everyone as it was to me. It may be one of those things that falls into the category of “it feels like I missed some fundamental How To Be A Person class that everyone else took.”

This is a common feeling among recovering people. None of us feels like we fit in; everyone else knows something we don't; we are missing some fundamental quality that would have made life fall neatly into place. (Which brings me to the topic of the people who just needed to put the drugs down and be pointed in a productive direction vs. people who are still disasters clean. Guess which group I fall into.) Which reminds me! Last night the Internet gave me the link to an article in Oprah's magazine that describes the midlife-crisis currently hitting the women of Generation X. So this here writing project? Completely unnecessary. But I've set this challenge for myself and I love no motivation like shame and guilt. So I'll keep writing and see what I end up with.

Where was I? Oh – the things I want without wanting to do the work to get them. I've always wanted to play guitar but only enough to take a handful of lessons. My last attempt was valiant – I bought myself a beautiful guitar and showed up pretty consistently for group lessons at a friend's house. After a few months, there was pain in my strumming arm almost constantly. Especially painful were things like gripping the scoop I use to clean litter boxes, which is a thing I try to do every day. I went through physical therapy twice before the pain went away, and it's still not completely gone. My intention is to go to the adorable guitar shop where I bought my guitar (where they also give lessons) and ask someone (who knows how to do something I want to know how to do) if there is a way I should be doing it differently. That has been my intention for many months now.

What is it? What is the problem? 1. Think of a thing to do. 2. DO THE THING. That's it, right? There's not some 1.5 secret step I'm missing? There must be. Unless this is that executive function thing they talk about? There are the things I know I want to do (currently: clearing out yet more of my wardrobe so I can get rid of my TWO broken dressers [why do I have two broken dressers?] and acquire a new piece of storage for my clothing; taking my books off the bookshelves so they can be moved and I can get new flooring and also get rid of some books)(besides the regular stuff like exercise and eat foods that make me look and feel good and learn how to program and garden and oh maybe clean my damn house) and there is the crushing lack of motivation and energy.

(I'm thinking this whole NaNoWriMo thing coincided with an increase in the dosage of one of my meds which has given me a temporary “up” sensation? Like I sat through my laptop trying to repair itself so I could write rather than wandering off and doing something [or nothing] else. Honestly, me getting a thing done sooner rather than later is not a thing. I still haven't emptied the litter boxes from yesterday.)

(It occurs to me at this point to wonder if my expectations aren't set unrealistically high. Hi, my name is Teri and I was in Gifted & Talented classes and was told I had Such Potential, and have done no impressive or soul-fulfilling thing with my life. Welcome to my expectations. Not to mention this existential dread that I didn't even have words for until college when I took philosophy and learned that existentialism is a thing. This is my ONE opportunity to be alive and ultimately the only rules are those I choose to follow and This is what I've done with it? This is my life?)

(Which brings me to capitalism, specifically late-stage capitalism. I was born to the grandchildren of farmers and immigrants without the financial means to pick and choose which hobbies would distract me from my inescapable death. I watched my mother survive two divorces and [unbeknownst to myself] decided that I would be able to take care of myself. I wouldn't depend on anyone else for lodging or food or miscellaneous entertainments; I would do it myself. [This has a lot to do with why I am Single. Unmarried. Don't get too close – you may offer to take care of me and I might weaken and let you and then my guard will be down and then life will have me where it wants me.]

Late-stage capitalism. In which I, a consumer, trade my time and energy for money, which I then trade for comfort, convenience, and distraction from the awareness of my inescapable death. Knowing that, sooner or later, NONE OF THIS WILL MATTER bumps up against my desire to look younger and be attractive and matter in some absolute sense. I have a “safe” government job [thanks, Dad] with good insurance which is a Big Deal when you have a chronic condition like mental illness. I have a small home, a car that's paid for and still runs, and two cats for whom I am responsible. That there are no children is partly on purpose; partly because I never wanted to be a single mom, and partly because I didn't meet their other parent while I was young and foolish enough to consider parenting.)

Where was I? Expectations. In recovery, expectations are set-ups for resentments. Hmm. I may have to think about that. If nothing matters, expectations are silly. There are no shoulds. There Is No Way To Derive An Ought From An Is. (My favoritest of all the things I learned in philosophy.) Except that my best idea, recreational drug use, got me in legal trouble, put everyone else at risk, and (now that they know about it) makes my loved ones worry about my health and well-being. So it benefits all of us that I remain clean. And it increases the likelihood that I'll stay clean if I treat my mental illness, which requires (in this ever more dystopian hellscape) money and/or insurance. Which requires a job. Which is easier to maintain if I have a safe place to sleep and food and clothing. All of which requires effort to maintain. We haven't even mentioned recycling and volunteering and staying informed about the current state of the ever more dystopian hellscape. There are a lot of plates to keep spinning, despite the fact that eventually they are all going to shatter and it won't ultimately matter to anyone who will endure. (Existentialism is heavy.)

But haha! Daily word count achieved! Now I can get my active minutes in (exercise boosts both physical and mental health) and figure out how much time I have before I need to be where I'm supposed to be next. Because social activities and meetings make living more meaningful. Lather, rinse, repeat.

#nanowrimo #f**k fifty

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yogaadvise · 5 years

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5 Can`t-Miss Things at a Deepak Chopra Meditation Retreat

Feeling worried, stressed out, and also detached from what you really desire? It may be time for a meditation holiday. Right here are five can not- miss out on things you'll experience at a Deepak Chopra meditation resort to motivate you to deal with yourself.

1. Stiring Up to Greater Function and Fulfillment

' It is a deep trip of going within to recognize your complete capacity and to recognize just how easily it is available to you (i.e. it has always been right there within you)' - Debbie

With the stressful speed of day-to-day live, the majority of us are less concerned with our greater function and also even more concerned with simply trying to make it through the day unscathed. When you're continuously stressed concerning bills to pay, children to feed, and also tasks to check off the order of business, it's tough to find the moment to also think of your heart's calling, much less go after it.

The advantages of a Deepak Chopra reflection retreat here are three-fold:

It supplies an one-of-a-kind chance to step far from the demands of everyday life.

Meditation not just relaxes you but really reverses the unfavorable impacts that gathered stress and anxiety as well as exhaustion carry your mind-body system.

Primordial Noise Meditation, a distinct method in which you receive your own individual rule based upon your birth info, is taught by Deepak as well as assists peaceful the voice in your mind that tells you to do, do, do and permits you to simply be - and only after that can you hear the whispers of your soul, guiding you to your greatest purpose and also fulfillment.

2. Devices to Grow Your Spiritual Technique

' It provides a gorgeous, safe area to go much more deeply into your spiritual journey. It actually does give excitement for body, mind and also your very own soul. As well as you obtain to learn from extraordinary teachers in the visibility of other advancing, attractive souls.' - Nancy

Whether your reflection inspiration is to discover even more definition and satisfaction, deeper love, or dynamic health, your spirit is the actual resource of all these points. Actually, a Deepak Chopra retreat does not instruct you anything you don't currently recognize. What it does is give the devices to lead you back to what the undersurface of you comprehends as truth.

Primordial Audio Reflection allows you to access your considerably loving and also happy spirit, and bring it out into your life. The Seven Spiritual Regulations of Yoga exercise, based on Deepak's very popular publication, is an one-of-a-kind practice that goes far beyond the poses and brings yoga exercise - or the "union" which is your natural state - into every element of your life.

Ayurveda, a 5,000-year-old system of alternative healing from India, offers mind-body techniques that trigger your body's innate knowledge for lifelong vitality. When you have the appropriate roadmap, your internal trip enables you to get to the extensive realization that what you look for is currently within.

3. Motivating Lessons from Knowledgeable, Involving Audio Speakers

' Numerous remarkable 'aha' moments. I liked all audio speakers. Each session/speaker is distinct and loving as well as filled with wisdom. Such an inspiring event! This is an experience your spirit will certainly never fail to remember, and also one that every soul could only acquire from. Treat on your own to remembering who you really remain in a mind-blowing yet fun means.' - Jacqueline

Learning from as well as remaining in the presence of experienced, loving spirits who absolutely personify their mentors is one of the most effective methods to absorb this old knowledge. At each of his retreats, Deepak supplies his special perspective and additionally welcomes a recognized panel of dynamic, motivating speakers to share the stage.

With topics varying from discovering your life objective as well as expanding your happiness, to making healthy and balanced practices stick or drawing in even more love into your life, each speaker provides fresh, thought-provoking insight into their location of expertise to help you open up to a new means of being. Every talk is distinct and customized to the specific audience - absolutely an unique experience you won't locate anywhere else.

4. Adhering with Like-Minded Individuals

' A remarkable way to construct upon or establish a meditation method. Informative, transformational sessions. A time to link in a deep means with your spirit as well as other like minded individuals in a stunning setting.' - Jennifer

One of one of the most stunning takeaways from a Deepak Chopra meditation retreat is the understanding that you are not the only one. Similar individuals from around the globe involved pick up from Deepak and also reconnect with their spirit, forming a helpful, caring setting in which you can easily explore your inner world as well as grow as an individual - and also create friendships that last a lifetime.

Feeling like part of a bigger awakening is inspiring, confirming, and also encourages you to stay the training course - especially when friends and family in your home may not totally understand your inward journey.

5. Mind-Body Practices to Take Residence for Lively Wellbeing

"Seduction of Spirit opens you up a brand-new means of being, making use of meditation/yoga as the device to introduce you to your very own self. As the week took place and we were offered tools, the a lot more in tune we ended up being with ourselves and also everybody else around us. This paired with everyone at the Chopra Center created a loving atmosphere where you really felt secure to be yourself as well as share you inmost desires and also even fears. I suggest for everyone of every ages!' - Kara

As tempting as it may seem to live in resort setting 24/7, your meditation trip can not last permanently as well as the moment will certainly come to return to the obligations of real life. The extensive change you experience at a Deepak Chopra meditation hideaway collects and also expands significantly when you're able to take the tools residence with you.

Deepak is passionate about utilizing old knowledge in such a way that matches our modern-day globe, and guarantees that every mind-body method offered - from Prehistoric Audio Reflection and also The 7 Spiritual Legislations of Yoga, to Ayurvedic eating suggestions and also way of living modifications - is useful and manageable. This arms you with a system of healing knowledge that is conveniently integrated into your every day life so you can enjoy enduring, dynamic wellness and also happiness.

#bikram #bikram yoga #deepak chopra meditation #hatha #Hatha Yoga #healing #hot yoga #meditation #meditation retreat #pilates #spiritual #spiritual journey #vinyasa yoga #yoga #yoga for beginners

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softchenlele · 5 years

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SKZ secret Santa 2018

hi, this is admin kitty! i’m sorry to be so late, but here’s your present, @mmulti !! I hope you like it!!

It’s the most wonderful time of the year, and for their second Christmas together as Stray Kids, they’re having a little festive dinner. Jeongin is happily humming along his playlist, setting the table up, decorating the dorms, dancing a little, while the hyungs are out for a last grocery run. Hyunjin had forgotten to buy some salmon (“how could you‼”) and they were fresh out of drinks (“if we can’t have wine, let us have cola‼”); so the youngest decided to stay and finish setting up as he waited for everyone to come back.

So many things had changed since last Christmas. First of all, they had officially debuted; the nine of them standing together at their debut showcase had felt surreal. Enthusiastic fans standing by them and cheering them on, they put out another album, and then a third one, stages following each other, music shows, variety shows, all so fast. It really felt like a blur, a hazy dream, and Jeongin wouldn’t ever want to wake up. He’d wanted that for too long for it just to fade, all the hard work, all the sleepless nights, he’s so proud of it, and he hopes his family is proud too.

Setting nine plates on the table, nine spoons, nine pairs of chopsticks, nine glasses, he thinks about his newfound brothers, not of blood but of heart. Don’t get him mistaken though, he really thinks that bond is stronger than anything. Blood is thicker than water? Chan told him the saying is incomplete anyway. He’s really thankful for the leader, he’s the one who brought them together, and as such he earned so much respect from everyone. He’d watched him work at stupidly late hours so many times before, falling asleep in front of his computer, always working on new music; Chan truly was a force to be reckoned with.

Baby maybe you know me pretty well

That’s why I see your worried look

Closing his eyes, Jeongin sings along to the voice coming out of the speakers. He thinks of Woojin, Woojin and his wonderful voice, a unique tone recognizable between a thousand. Caring, sweet, skilled and trustworthy Woojin, always bettering himself. Minho, confident, strong and passionate, although sometimes cheesy with cameras but never too careless. Changbin, who insists his concept is “dark”, Jeongin can’t help but laugh at the thought. Badass maybe, but no one will ever manage to convince Jeongin that his Binnie-hyung is dark.

Take my hand, let’s go anywhere

Hyunjin, Jisung, Felix and Seungmin, the loud and energetic boys of 2000, pop into his mind, four bright smiles and cheerful voices. Hyunjin, once overlooked by fans or only seen for his looks, carved himself a spot in everyone’s hearts through dancing, and his charisma on stage is nothing to scoff at either; as for Jisung, Jeongin thinks his raps are really cool. Have you heard his part in District 9?? Wonderful. Magical. Felix… Felix went through a lot. From the boy who couldn’t speak well to the boy who adds shine to their songs, he had to possess quite some strength to pull through. Jeongin is grateful for him, and so, so thankful that he got to debut with him; he wouldn’t have it any other way. And finally, there is Seungmin, boy of many talents, like MCing or savageness, to name a few besides singing. He’s caring, snarky, quick-witted, often teases Jeongin, but that’s brotherly love, right?

No matter when, you’re always by my side

Indeed they are, and as he puts the last finishing touches on the table, he can only wish for many more Christmases together. The thought puts a soft smile on his lips, and as he goes to check on the tteokbokki, he finds himself full-on singing now. The next song plays and as he’s nodding along to Day6’s songs, he can’t help but picture Seungmin going absolutely wild over them. Kim Seungmin truly is a successful fanboy, he thinks, and that makes for extremely funny moments.

The door opens and eight boys spill in the living room, carrying a few bags and dropping them on the table. They all share a can of soda, finally resting for the day, gathered around the coffee table, and as he looks around at the people with him, Jeongin feels a warm something settle in his chest. Now, he knows what people mean when they talk about a home far from home. It’s a place where you belong and feel at ease, where you can be just yourself and no one else, surrounded with people you love. Maybe it’s far from his home and family, but he feels safe here, with his hyungs gathered around. Everyone shares stories of past Christmases, Felix in Australia making not snowmen but sandmen on the beach, Jisung with his parents playing card games, Minho watching movies with his family, cuddled up on a couch…

And then it hits him that this is the first Christmas he spends without his parents, without his brothers, and his heart tightens a little. He loved to see the eyes of his little brother fill with stars as he opened his gifts, his father always taking pictures of them all, and smiles everywhere he looked; Jeongin’s eyes get a little watery, he misses his family so much sometimes. But they’re in Busan, and he still has to wait before he can see them. Chan notices the forlorn look on his face, which Jeongin didn’t notice he was making.

“Jeonginnie, is something the matter?”

Jeongin’s eyes widen, scrambling for a response. “Ah, no… It’s nothing! I was just thinking that a lot of things happened to us this past year…”

Minho chuckles. “That’s an understatement! 2018 might have been the most exciting year of my life‼”

“It sure was a busy year,” Felix pipes up, “but seeing where it got us, it really was worth it all!”

Jeongin smiles at his teammates fondly. Ever the optimists, the whole lot of them. This year was also such a bright year, he recalls, the nervousness and anticipation of the debut showcase, the smiles during promotions on music shows, meeting all the Stays who came from far away to attend fanmeetings, those were really good times. Everyone goes to sit at the table, and again he thinks about his parents back home, and about how many things he’d talk about, how many stories he’d tell them around a good cup of tea and some snacks. And the Rookie awards at the end-of-the-year shows, Jeongin still can’t believe they’re real; that he held them in his hands, that he didn’t dream it all up. Performing on huge stages, before a sea of people and famous senior artists is a sight he thinks will be burned forever in his retinas and his memory, a sight at the same time eerie and painfully real as he remembers the stress he felt while going up on stage. But once you’re up there, there’s no turning back, no escaping, and so you give it everything you’ve got, give the people a run for their money, because it’s the only thing left for you to do. You have to make it just as memorable for them as it was for you. With that sole thought in mind, Jeongin became someone else; he sang with all his heart, danced with all his strength, and though he might be still lacking here and there, he goes up on the stage to enjoy it.

Hyunjin goes to the kitchen and brings back the pots that were simmering on the stove, one containing spicy tteokbokki, the other with a generous quantity of spaghetti bolognese (Seungmin had been craving that for a week, he was getting insufferable, so… merry Christmas?). Everyone immediately digs in, and the table goes silent, but as his mom says: when a table is silent, it means the food is good! The pots quickly diminish as they all eat their fill, feeling happy and contented, like a good meal together makes you feel. Jeongin can’t lie, he really loves this feeling, and napping afterwards is the best feeling in the world, he loves to do just that when he has some time. Then Jisung goes to get the dessert, a chocolate cake that looks a bit like a wood log; Chan had told him once that it’s traditional in France, but he had no clue as to why they made the cakes look like logs and not, like, reindeers? Sleighs? Wouldn’t that feel more Christmas-y?

They all choose that time to exchange gifts, Changbin gets brand new earphones, Seungmin a pretty new jacket, courtesy of Felix, and Woojin even teased Chan by getting him a very soft, comfortable-looking neck pillow. Jeongin looks around, and finds Chan holding out a letter for him to take.

Jeongin,

Maybe you thought you wouldn’t get anything? Don’t worry, your hyungs did prepare something.

Open the front door.

Jeongin stares at Chan, puzzled, looks to Seungmin, then Minho, but everyone has the same conspiratory smile, and so he slowly makes his way to the front door of the dorm, opening it slowly.

He almost falls on his butt when he sees the gift.

His parents are standing right here, in front of him! They came all the way up from Busan, just in time to visit him for Christmas, and he feels like he’s either about to spontaneously combust, or start bawling then and there. He settles for the latter, and tears pour out as he buries himself in his parents’ embrace, he’d missed them so much that hugging them tight is the only thing he can do at that point.

His eight friends are watching him fondly, clearly proud of the effect of their gift. “We didn’t exactly go only to the convenience store earlier”, says Changbin, “we had to perfect our timing with your parents. It was actually Felix’s idea though, so make sure to thank him”, he finishes with a smirk.

Jeongin frees himself of his parents’ hold after a moment, turns around and without missing a beat, goes for a group hug with the best bandmates ever. His voice trembles a bit when he speaks again. “This is the best gift you could have ever gotten me. I love you guys so much.”

Chan is the one who answers him.

“We’re so proud of you, really. Merry Christmas, we love you, Jeonginnie.”

#skzss2018 #stray kids #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #i.n.#yang jeongin #jeongin #jeongin scenarios

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hellobengski · 5 years

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THAILAND: POST COLLEGE ADVENTURE 2017

The last time I felt clouds in my presence was in the year 2012, month of December, in which the airplane landed to Hong Kong. The dilemma of life and death in an open space was merely forgotten, where everything you could see was tranquility. I never wanted to stop looking at cottony clouds. They made me feel safe. It was 5 years later when I felt it again. I remember how it feels to fly without wings, appreciating the beauty of nature beyond what I imagine.

Thailand was the next stop on my travel bucket list all over Southeast Asia. It was a place that had similar atmosphere with my very own country. EDSA was the first thing that came into my mind when I walked outside the airport. I heard various honking of buses and cars, but in a more disciplined way, I guess. But more than that, I had a view of a new horizon of tradition and culture.

My mom, sister, and aunt had to travel 2 hours away from the airport so we could check in to the hotel where my sister booked through the online. I was assuming somehow it could be near a quiet place, or maybe a road of consecutive coffee shops, but I failed. It was entirely different than what I anticipated. Khao San Road was a place where small bars and party houses were all located. Abstract shirts, different items with elephant designs were displayed along the narrow road of which tourists could experience a good bargain with merchants. I have seen discrete races all over the world who stayed for quite some time in their respective hotels. I could turn my head 360 and whichever direction I bumped into, I could always see unfamiliar but lovely faces.

We met Ms. Nancy, our tour guide for the 1st day. She had a medium short hair, showed a very long glittery eyelashes in her face, and a pale pink lipstick on her mouth. She had a pleasing personality, I could say, or maybe she needed to be because it was part of her job. She was shorter than me, maybe an inch, and was in her typical shirt and pants with Chuck Taylor shoes to stay comfy.

I only had 2 hours to prepare and fix my baggage before I travel with Ms. Nancy. I swiped the card through the doorknob, allowing me to embrace a very relaxing and convenient 1 single room with 2 large soft beds and pillows. I put my sister’s make-up kit in front of the mirror with a hairdryer beside it. My personal hygiene necessities were located just outside our bedroom, in the midpoint of two comfort rooms, so it would be easier to grab just in case we’re in a hurry to take a bath. My aunt placed some leftover biscuits all the way from Philippines next to the huge flat screen TV. My mom being my mom, tried to clean some of her stuff, but there was no enough time left. Angela, my sister, did some of her retouch on her face to make her feel fresh even when she already felt exhausted. We left the room and ate one of the most popular Thai food called, “Pad-Thai” along the road.

The value of respect of Thai people for their King was the very first thing I ever noticed. As I was riding in an outsized van, I spotted some black and white colored curtains hanged outside the gigantic temples of the individual kings who passed away, and for the royals who are still living. Ms. Nancy shared some of her ideas about Thai’s history, telling us that these long curtains represent grief and condolences for the King who died due to his old age. And this will last for a year, until they go back to the feeling of relief.

I went inside historical temples of different images of Buddha, taking pictures for a remembrance to my relatives when I get back home. I tried eating coconut ice cream for P50 baht, which savored my starving throat into something refreshing. Tuk Tuk, a classic Thai vehicle, impressed me with its three wheels, although Ms. Nancy recommended us not to ride on it. Even if I wanted to stay longer in a certain place, we only had limited time to grasp some of the stories that were in there.

Alarm clocks in our own phone woke up us too early. I didn’t have enough sleep. Maybe because of too much excitement, or maybe because of the extreme coldness inside our room. I woke up at 4 in the morning holding my phone, checking some news and updates in the Philippines. It was a never-ending extra judicial killings on my newsfeed, letting me feel the frustration and agitation for my government’s administration. And few days from now, ironically, I would be home in a place where I wouldn’t feel safe. I didn’t want to think about overthinking, so I tried to wake up my mom. I went directly to the bathroom, thinking about the plans and places Ms. Nancy listed for us the day before she left us in the hotel. Everyone else seemed to be freaking out when I finished taking a bath, considering the only time we had to eat for a buffet breakfast. I chose to wear an orange shirt and shorts with floral design, supposing it would match the places we would be visiting.

Just by the time the restaurant open its door, I hurriedly walked into the different kinds of food. I was truly overwhelmed seeing complete set of breakfast that made my stomach perfectly full. Sausages on my left, croissants and toasted bread on my right, a problem of choosing between fried rice or pasta, and slices of watermelons and pineapples were put into my plate. I wasn’t even contented at all, I made my own coffee to match my croissants, even bother to get cucumber juice just in case coffee wouldn’t give me satisfaction. The question of time never crossed my mind when all these food were prepared in front of me. Although it was a must to rush, a Thai man, who works with Ms. Nancy in the same travel agency, fetched us. It was a group tour, consisted of two couples, one from America, and the other from Malaysia.

The tour started by introducing Mr. Thai’s name. I forgot, though. He considered making jokes out of telling stories, associated with historical Thai’s exotic food too. He is a 55-year old man, who has 3 kids. All I could remember was every time he gets to see me smiling, the memory of his daughter blissfully retains in his mind. He shared about how he got involved into a travel agency, which I think a lot of Thai people are working at. He was not as chatty as Ms. Nancy, nevertheless, he was entertaining. He showed us the famous Floating Market in Thailand, where tourists needed to ride on a boat to purchase some stuff. I have seen amazing paintings in all sizes, carved vases, coconut ice cream with nuts for its toppings, “lansones” which was sold by an 85-year old woman, weaved hats, and a lot more. The biggest Eureka moment was, all I thought Thailand has only one floating market. By the time we had to leave the place, Mr. I forgot-the-name actually revealed that in every town, has its own one. Well, not a thing was bought during the boating experience, all I know was my heart was fulfilled seeing people enjoying moments that could only last once in a life time.

The magical performance in theater happened at night after the tour in Floating Market. We entered a huge closed room with people wanting to witness such beauty in arts and entertainment. Siam Niramit, is a state-of-the art theater yielding one of the largest stage productions in the world. It’s a captivating adventure through Thailand’s history and culture in high-flying fashion, with live elephants, acrobatics, pyrotechnics and stunts – all performed by a troupe made up of thousands of performers adorned in great costumes. I would never forget my mom’s unexplainable reaction and experience throughout the entire show. She wanted to cry out of joy most of the time. It’s as if she didn’t want to go home in the hotel. I never saw rejection from her face, telling me that next time she comes back, it would be with my dad. We captured moments with several actors and actresses after, leaving us a souvenir with elephants, making this as her favorite art of the travel.

Off my bucket list was also riding an elephant. One of the many animals I have always wanted to experience, carabao was supposed to be the first. I think elephants were made to listen closely to everything, to everyone. They were made to be friends with people most especially when you treat them with care and respect. They love watermelons and coconuts. They like being splashed with water after taking us into a routine. They were also trained to take pictures with various poses of their trunks, and that’s how they get to be attractive for locals and foreigners.

The famous Thai massage will never be forgotten. So my brother’s friend who happens to work in Bangkok accompanied us after a very long day in market. This has got to be the most effective massage in my whole life. At first I thought it was brutal, since it was my first time the legit Thai massage. I was taking it easy for the first few minutes but later on, it kinda felt horrible. In a matter of seconds, the compress became weapon and I was literally cringing under the pressure. I actually found myself concentrating on regulating my breathing. The way they provide Thai massages are with entire body. They leverage their own body weight with certain movements in order to provide enough pressure to the body. I did fall asleep several times but still ended with a very soothing cup of tea.

Of course, our vacation wouldn’t be complete without the “party.” Prior to shopping in Chatuchak Market, my sister and I had been planning to socialize with people. We were really after drinks and fries, although it wasn’t our first time doing this, we wanted to make sure to at least meet good-looking guys from Europe. Our mom was subtle with her words but still she allowed us to explore. By the time we went down from our room, that’s when the party started. I thought we were courageous enough to do things beyond our control, but surprisingly, we were like high school students who just stayed in a corner of the street to observe how a street party works. There were people who literally danced as if it was their last day on earth, girls and guys French kissing each other while tossing their drinks, Asians and Americans twerking as if they’re showing off to every person they’d bump into. There was also robbery that happened in 7 Eleven Convenience store, unknowingly grabbing sodas and fresh milk from the fridge, to ease their drunkenness. After all, I saw emptiness. I felt emptiness. The superficiality of society where people wants to fit in to get accepted because after all, no one wants rejection. The façade of being proud “in” but in reality, they’re slowly dying. And for me, street party seemed to be an outlet of frustration, sadness, anxiety, and depression. People always long for something in the end. But life should be more than a night of drinks and smoke. It should be more than meeting temporary people.

Four days and three nights was a short term goal achieved in knowing and living the life in Thailand. More insights were added to my unending learnings in life. It was more than the feeling of being grateful of what the life has more to offer for people like us who seek for journey mentally, spiritually, and emotionally. Life is really full of surprises and adventures and I couldn’t wait for my next destination. Until next time, Thailand!

#thailand #bucketlist #vacation #vacationtrip #asia #asianculture #thaifood #floatingmarket #party #travel #travelexperience #travelblog #travelstory

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kpopisthereasonihavenolife · 6 years

Text

Brave Enough

Monsta X

Lee Jooheon/Reader [F]

Genre: Fluff

Words: 3.5k

Why is it that everything I write for my angle Jooheon I don’t like? Like the last 3 things I’ve written for him I’m so unhappy with, and I don’t know why????

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It was a surprise seeing Jackson just meandering around on the streets while Jooheon had taken a break from working in his studio for a bit of fresh air. Let alone, to see that Jackson was walking around with a woman he’s never seen before. Jooheon, shouting across the way to his friend he hadn’t seen in a while, watched as he turned to the sound of his name and screamed at Jooheon.

They hadn't seen each other outside of promotions in quite some time, so it was nice to bump into each other. Jooheon watched as Jackson shook your shoulders as you swatted at him and told him to go to Jooheon and say hello, and soon enough he was. Taking your wrist and dragging you along behind him.

When the three of you all gathered in a spot, out of the way of other pass bys, Jackson and Jooheon had a moment of hugging before they were greeting each other. Talking for a moment as Jooheon then peered over Jackson’s broad shoulder at you.

“Who’s your friend? On a date or something?” He watched as you covered your mouth and faked a gag, making him laugh and Jackson gasp at you. You looked at him, a look of fake disgust on your face.

“I’d rather eat wads of paper than go on a date with him.” Jackson shoved at your shoulder, making you crack a grin.

“I’m not that horrible! You’re the horrible one here.”

“So, no date?” Jooheon piped up.

“No date,” you said looking at Jackson. “Ever,” you quickly added on. Jackson just gave you a look as you shrugged at him. “What? I’ve literally told you over and over, you are so not my type.” He shoved you again as you just laughed at him as you then turned towards Jooheon. “I’m Y/N by the way, an old friend of our mutual friend.” You motioned to Jackson with your head.

“Lee Jooheon. Good to see a new face, it was getting old seeing the same ones over and over.” Jackson, now seeing the introductions were finished initiated conversation again.

“What’re you doing? Busy with schedules lately?” Jooheon shook his head.

“Just working in the studios a bit. Schedules are finished, at least for a little while.”

“You should come with us to hang out then! We were on our way to the bowling alley.” Jooheon was ready to refuse, not wanting to intrude on the two of you, when you added in.

“It’d be no problem. Yugyeom is picking up one of his friends and meeting us there too. Bringing one more wouldn’t hurt.” With a bit more convincing, Jooheon was eventually persuaded into heading off with the two of you, Jackson catching up and you getting to know him. When the three of you arrived, Yugyeom was waiting outside the bowling alleys doors with a fellow ‘97 liner friend of his, Jungkook as he sprung off the bench he sat on to run to greet you guys.

He gave you a hug and greeted Jackson as well as Jooheon, happy to see another familiar face to join the fun. Jungkook following and greeting everyone, knowing you quite well through Yugyeom. You always wondered how someone like you, a simple working woman with a boring job stocking and restocking shelves in a convenience store, had managed to befriend people of higher social status. But, who knows and who cares at this point.

When the 5 of you got into your designated bowling lanes, the issue of teams occurred; with 5 people, it would be uneven. Jackson had cracked that he and Jooheon be on your team, not only because they came all the way here with you, but also because you weren’t the best at bowling. No matter how many times you came here with the guys, you never seemed to get better, and Jackson never let you live it down.

After some harmless banter, and a slap on Jackson’s back from you that was just a bit too hard, the teams were split. You had decided to steal Jungkook, not wanting to have Jackson for once, as he was always on your team and keep Jooheon, since he was your new friend. You called dibs on him.

Yugyeom, a bit salty you stole his friend, and Jackson, very salty you chose Jungkook and not him, your best friend, both allied together and pledged to cream you at the games to come. And thus, the games begun.

As you were already aware, you weren’t the best at bowling, but Jooheon and Jungkook had your back. When the other two pledged to wreck your, already in shambles, honor, your boys pledged to restore it to it’s shining, bright glory.

And restore it they did.

You walked out of the bowling alley after playing 3 different games, and taking small breaks to munch away on food and stop to take a bathroom break or two. Jackson and Yugyeom won only 1 game out of the three, the first one. Jooheon and Jungkook claimed to let them win the first one to get their hopes up and then the last 2 they dominated, letting you walk out with your head held high that you were once again on top of them.

After bowling, the 5 of you stopped by a small diner to grab something before you all headed back to where you were before. Jooheon had to make a stop by the studio he left earlier on, making sure to grab anything he left behind and Jackson would be going back home. Jungkook would be walked back to his dorm by Yugyeom as he then would go back to his dorm. You were heading to the store before you headed home.

“Hey, the store near your apartment is close to Jooheon’s studio, isn’t it?” Yugyeom piped up from your right side, earning Jooheon’s attention who sat at your left.

“Depends, I kinda need to know the location of his studio.” Jooheon gave you the address of his studio building and after thinking on it, you hesitantly nodded. Jungkook and Yugyeom smiled at each other, as if they were silently having a small conversation as Yugyeom then nudged you with his elbow.

“Why not walk with Jooheon to the store? You two just met, yeah? Get to know each other more.” Jackson gasped from across the table, catching on to what Yugyeom was trying to set up and smiled as he smacked the table.

“You totally should take her! I mean, it’s getting late and no woman should be going out this late on her own. Especially someone as cute as my best girl, you know what I’m saying?” You scoffed as you rolled your eyes.

“Flattery won’t earn any compliments from me, sorry Wang.” You stated coldly as you smirked and raised your brow with attitude, right before taking a sassy sip of your drink.

“You know, you wound me.”

“I’m so grief stricken.” You set your cup down before looking at Jooheon. “But, if you wouldn’t mind the company. If we’re going the same way anyways, might as well go together instead of me creepily following you like some stalker.” Jooheon easily agreed. Even without all the banter of it, he would’ve probably walked you anyways.

Soon, everyone was on their own ways, Jackson and Yugyeom smiling at you and Jooheon as you walked away, Jungkook giving you one last pat on the back, leaving both you and Jooheon to look at each other confused. But, nonetheless, you were off.

He ended up going to the store with you, and even walking with you inside. When you insisted he could go, he out right refused, waiting for you to get your needed things, check out and then walked you back to your apartment building. It wasn’t too far from his dorm actually, which was pleasant for him to find out. Before you managed to leave, he was able to snag your phone number from you, as you got his and then you two departed.

When he got back to the dorms, he was greeted by a few members out in the living room as he opened his phone, going to your newly added contact and texting you that he made it back safely. He was strictly told by you to text when he got back. You texted not 3 minutes later with a ‘good, you remembered.’ From there, it was a full blown conversation.

You two met often. You’d text and call when you had free time and were even convinced by Jooheon to come to the dorms and met the rest of his team, who had been eager to meet you as well. Jooheon talked about you often, or if he was randomly smiling at his phone screen, they all assumed it was because he was talking to you.

He was doing a piss poor job at hiding the crush he had on you. He might as well have had a giant neon sign pointing to his head that he likes you. Yet you remained completely oblivious of this fact, as you were too busy with snarking at Jackson, as he would text you about how things were going with Jooheon.

He called you out on it the second time you told him you were hanging out with Jooheon. He had blatantly stated you liked Jooheon from the get go, and you hated when he was right, so you just changed topics or hung up on him if he was calling you when he talked about it. Which was more often than you cared to admit.

Jooheon was a sweet soul, kind and hardworking. Busy all the time, stressed a lot from working and writing songs. When they were ready for a comeback, everyone got busy and got more stressed from promotions and featured stage performances. So, you made it a point to pop by every now and again to backstage areas and make sure the boys were eating right and would even offer massages to those who looked tense to try and get them to relax.

Jooheon was, of course, the number 1 candidate. But soon, you started to feel like maybe you were around him too much. Of course, you knew you liked him, and you knew that because you liked him your mind automatically drew yourself towards him. You searched for him first and immediately went to him when you found him. He was your first thought and your last. You thought you might be overdoing it, so you started to limit yourself.

You’d go to other members first, or chat with someone on the staff. If they were backstage with another group you knew, GOT7 for example, you’d stop there before you were ushered over by Jackson or Yugyeom, who 100% knew everything.

And Jooheon noticed. He noticed and he felt like something was off. He noticed how you use to come to him first, see him first, smile to him first and now you were always looking away from him until you had to, or if he caught you in time. It made him uneasy. So, one day he caught you and told you he wanted to go out with you on the next day he had a little free time between promotions and traveling.

The time wouldn’t be very long, 5 hours if you were lucky, but he wanted to see if he could worm out that distance that had created itself and make sure everything would be okay. And maybe, just maybe if he was brave enough, he’d tell you how he felt. That being a big maybe.

So, 4 days later he was texting you at 3 PM asking if you could get out with him for a while, in which you told him you’d met him after your work shift ended at 3:15. He sprinted to your store in which he saw you stocking the final shelve of canned goods, rotating labels and making sure nothing was dented when he came over to you and hugged you.

“I’m nearly done. Just wait a few minutes longer, yeah? Then I’ll head back, change out of these,” you gestured to your uniform, “and I’m all yours.” He almost blushed at your choice of words. If only you could be his. Then, like you said, not 10 minutes late you were walking out of the store with him.

The two of you walked around, stopped to get something to drink and rest before you walked around some more. Just window shopping. You stopped in a small store, selling this and that, little bits of anything just to browse around. You were looking at a shelf not far from Jooheon as a working, middle aged woman approached him, tapping his shoulder. Tearing his attention away from you he looked at her.

“Got yourself a girlfriend?” Jooheon flushed at her statement.

“N-no! Just, well not yet? I wanna ask her, but I’m too much of a wuss. I hate rejections.” He rubbed the back of his neck as he huffed and the woman motioned over to a shelf of fake, weaved flower crowns. He looked at you once before disappearing behind the shelf and looking at them. They were beautiful for being fake flowers. Some in all white, some with different colored flowers, some with roses, others with ones that almost resembles honeysuckles. Even some that were completely black if that was their taste.

“Why not try with one of these? Their not cliche like jewelry and they’ll stand out too.” The woman peeked around the shelf, looking at you before she looked back and plucked a crown that had small, white flower buds all across it. “I think this one would look best on her, wouldn’t you think?” Jooheon didn’t know if he was just being scammed into buying a flower crown or if he was getting legitimate help, but nonetheless, the idea seemed tempting to him.

If he did it in a unique way, maybe things would go better than he thought. He took the flower crown from the woman, looking at it before thinking about it sitting on your head. He smiled as he nodded to her, she taking it back before quietly ringing it up and Jooheon paying for it. Se had put it into a small box then stuffed it into a small bag before giving it to Jooheon, who was watching you come back to him.

You walked up to his side, wanted to peek inside the bag as he held it closed and to his side now.

“You buy something?”

“Obviously.”

“Let me see!”

“You will, just be patient.” You huffed, pouting as he just laughed at you, poking at your puffed out cheek. He turned to the woman behind the counter, thanking her as the two of you walked out. Jooheon checked his phone for the time, he was running out of it. He could only stay with you for another 40 minutes, and that was pushing it.

The two of you sat at a pretty empty place at a close by park, not knowing where else to go for such a short amount of time left. You two sat on a bench, his bag next to him.

“You gonna show me what you bought or not, Mr. Secretive.” He looked down at the small back in his hand as he huffed. Now or never.

“Alright, but you gotta close your eyes. It’s a present.”

“A present? What’s the occasion.” He just put his hand over your eyes, making you laugh as you closed your eyes. He felt your lids close and took his hand away, taking the box out of the bag. He opened it and moved the crown from the padding it in, to then place it on you. You furrowed your brow, not knowing what was on your head.

Jooheon moved his hands from the top of your head to the sides of it before he leaned closer to you and put a small kiss on the corner of your mouth. Your eyes shot open, not expecting it and covered your mouth, cheeks flushed. Jooheon just smiled at your reddened cheeks before he pulled out his phone and took a picture of your frozen in shock state.

Cheeks flushed, hands covering your mouth and a flower crown on top of your head. He quickly snapped it before he showed you. He brought your hands down a bit, leaning in to see the picture. The flower crown was beautiful. You looked from his phone to him, seeing the smile that never left his face.

“Jooheon?”

“The occasion is that I like you. This is my confession.” Your face grew warmer as Jooheon gushed and poked at your cheeks, as you just shied away from him. Whether or not you rejected him didn’t matter to him for some reason. Just seeing you so shy, as opposed to your normal loud and rowdy self, was mind blowing for him.

“You suck,” you mumbled to him.

“Oh, and why is that?”

“Because you’re cheesy and the flower crown is cute and you’re cute and it’s not fair because now I’m all embarrassed and now I wanna spend my life with you, but I can’t even spend the next hour with you.” You puffed your cheeks, confessing how you felt as Jooheon just laughed and flopped his body over so that his head was now on your lap.

You looked down to him, thinking maybe your redness should be disappearing anytime now, the initial shock of it growing weaker as the words had already left both of your mouths. He looked up to you, smiling as he poked your nose with his finger.

“I’m sorry I can’t spend much more time with you. I wish I could Princess.” You cocked your brow at him.

“Princess? Where’d that come from?”

“Well, I figured since you’re going to be mine now, and you’re wearing a crown. It seemed fitting, you know?”

“Oh, I’m going to be yours now am I? What, no official cheesy “will you be my girlfriend” speech?” He rolled his eyes at you.

“I mean, I can whip something up if you’d like me to.”

“Yeah, honestly let’s just skip the formalities. Be my boyfriend idiot.”

“So demanding.”

“Royalty has a tendency to be.” You smiled as you referred to him calling you princess not 20 seconds ago. He laughed at you as he leaned up and put another kiss on you, only this time on your lips and now on the corner of them. He pulled back and watched your face burn, once again getting that brilliant red tint on your cheeks.

“Are you going to be this cute every time I kiss you?”

“Oh shut up.” You turned away as he lay back down and shifted to nuzzle his face into your stomach, wrapping his arms around your waist. He felt your hands thread through his hair as he relaxed into your touch. “You know you have to get going soon, right?” He groaned. He suddenly didn’t want to leave you more than he did before.

“Can’t you just come back to the dorm with me? I’m sure the guys won’t mind.” You laughed at him.

“No way. I have work in the morning and you have work early in the morning. Now time to unlatch,” you tapped his head, making him flinch, “and scurry on home.” He begrudgingly lifted himself from your lap as he sat and pouted at you. You pulled at his cheek as he whined.

You kissed the cheek you pinched as you smiled to him again.

“You’ll come to any event I invite you to, right?” He asked you.

“I go to events anyways to make sure you guys are taking take of yourselves.”

“Yeah, but now you’ll come because you want to see your cute boyfriend, and not the other guys right?”

“Is that a bit of possessiveness I hear, Lee Jooheon?”

“It might be.”

“Yes,” you chuckled out to him. “I’ll go and attend any event you invite me to. That is, if I can get time off work. I still need to make a living you know.” He rolled his eyes as he got up and ended up walking you home. He was still annoyed he had to leave, especially now that he finally got you to actually agree to be his girlfriend. He stood with you for a couple minutes, just holding your hand outside your building doors.

It took a couple promises to visit him as soon as possible, as well as many promised text and phone calls from the future from you before he managed to let you go and trot inside your building and up into your apartment. You had just slipped off your shoes and moved to your room to change when your phone was ringing with a facetime call.

You rolled your eyes as you picked up the call, flipping on the light as you smiled into the camera.

“What in the world is wrong with you,” you laughed.

“I just couldn’t wait to see you again.”

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